We then headed back to our room. (not expecting that I would give an exotic massage to Sonal.) The room had been cleaned. All signs of our sexual acts...were erased forensically, fresh towels and shampoo in the bathroom, lavender room-freshener, and fresh flowers on the table vase.I must admit I was too busy with other things to notice there were flowers in the room at all. That’s the best thing about boutique hotels. The minions spoil us with their amazing alacrity.Me: Sonal, take off your. He pondered this image. ‘I am drowning’ he thought then aloud, ‘drowning my sorrows’. This, too, he found ironic. He didn’t usually drink. It was his wife – more accurately now his ex-wife – who liked to have her evening ‘relaxer’. ‘Anything you can do, I can do better’ His voice was cracked and harsh, redolent with pain. So he started to laugh but it sounded to him like sobbing. Time passed. The shaft of sunlight falling into the room moved slowly to one side then disappeared. The. More

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