Not that he wasn't a gentleman or anything, but he made me think things that were not very professional… Anyway, I was running late that day, which almost never happens to me, I always arrive 30 min prior to the booked appointment to prepare the room (ie turn on the music and water feature and warm the massage table). But, of course, on that day there was construction and traffic on the way to work. I rushed inside in a whirlwind, profusely apologizing. He was quite shy and told me not to worry about it. The dirty thoughts already began to rise in the back of my mind, "I'll make it up to ya" I thought. I showed him to the room and told him to lay face down with his face in the face cradle underneath the sheet and blanket and I would knock before I came back in. I left the room and did a few warm up stretches and tie my hair back. I knocked twice and was answered by a muffled "come in!" I opened the door and closed it softly behind myself. "Is everything comfortable?" I asked in a. As their Daimler passed by, the trees that lined the roadway seemed almost to bow to them, each offering its shade and inviting them to stop. The rolling hills too seemed somehow more welcoming while the blooms grew in greater profusion, their colours brighter and more varied. Were they, he wondered, or was it he that had changed? Sophie too imagined that she was nearing some magical kingdom that she might have read about as a child, a land of peace and tranquility, a place of infinite possibility. They drove on, past sleepy hamlets where giant walnut trees grew, past picturesque ruins overgrown with thorny blackberry vines and across shallow, swiftly flowing streams whose pebbles could have been gems as precious and rare as Sophie’s amethyst. At length, they reached the top of a rocky hill and looked down upon a tranquil valley that was the indefinable epitome of beauty. Here they stopped to pick poppies, that most delicate and ephemeral of flowers whose petals, like crimson.
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