Style

She took the red leather-bound notebook from her

red leather Kenzo handbag and

unscrewed the top of her

Mont Blanc as she

scrutinised the man sitting at the

other end of the long hotel bar

reading a book.

She liked men who read, she thought as she

admired her cursive script,

black on cream paper:

“In five minutes I will be in the

Gentlemans’ Toilets,

disabled booth, where I intend to

suck you off. No names.”

Satisfied, she tore the page out, folded it carefully,

watched the barman deliver the message as she

recapped her pen, put her red leather-bound notebook

back in her red leather Kenzo bag, saw him

nod and finished her drink already

feeling the hard floor of the stall

under her knees.