All of this surface beauty,this hedonism, was an indictment. Far from being fulfilment, it waswholly empty because it led nowhere. And she, in turn, w...s empty alongwith it.Wynne squirmed uncomfortably as a small bead of sweat ran down hercollarbone and down around her shoulder. Was all of this wrong? Was shemorally repugnant for taking joy in something as simple and impracticalas beauty?But then, if all that mattered was progress, logical rigorouscontribution, then what was the end goal? What. Jen finished with the customer and took me through the back room. Sitting at her desk was a very dark skinned well groomed man of about 40. He was wearing designer jeans with tan brogues, a White shirt and a dark blue jacket. He was Italian looking with a totally shaved head. He stood up to his full six foot height and offered out his hand as a greeting.“Hi I’m Bob!” he said with a voice that sounded like syrup.Shaking his hand I softly said “Pleased to meet you Bob, I’m Becky!”Jen looked at. More

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