"Again?" she complained."Mr. Moore just called. He wants us to pick up the litter in the parkinglot and to do something else."She descended the ladder...and donned her heels again, looking lovelierthan ever. She was obviously glad to have her dainty feet back on terrafirma."What else does he want us to do, besides picking up the litter?" sheasked.I told her."No," she said. "I won't do it." Yes, you will." No, I won't," Mona insisted, "not even if it costs me my job." It might," I warned her. "Mr.. See, we too had been married awhile, andknew each other too well. We couldn’t hide itfrom each other, so, it became a game, to hide itfrom them. What would we do? We were enthralledby every movement they made, every ripple of theirclothes, that belied the toned flesh beneathmoving, showing tiny flashes of bronze skinbetween buttons on his shirt, or on the slit inher skirt.We started a conversation, about this and that,one thing after another until we were conversinglike old friends. I. More

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