Sit down, please.”
“Would you like a drink?”
“No! No thank you,” the man blurts out, still dazed. “I can’t take another drop of coconut juice.”
“It’s not coconut juice,” winks the woman.
“I have a still. How would you like a Tropical Spritz?”
Trying to hide his continued amazement, the man accepts, and they sit down on her couch to talk. After they exchange their individual survival stories, the woman announces,
“I’m going to slip into something more comfortable.
Would you like to take a shower and shave? There’s a razor in the bathroom cabinet upstairs.”
No longer questioning anything, the man goes upstairs into the bathroom. There, in the cabinet is a razor made from a piece of tortoise bone.
Two shells honed to a hollow ground edge are fastened on to its end inside a swivel mechanism. “This woman is amazing,” he muses. “What’s next?” When he returns, she greets him wearing nothing but some small flowers on tiny vines, each strategically positioned, she smelled faintly of gardenias.
She then beckons for him to sit down next to her. “Tell me,” she begins suggestively, slithering closer to him, “We’ve both been out here for many months. You must have been lonely.
There’s something I’m certain you feel like doing right now, something you’ve been longing for, right?” She stares into his eyes. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You mean.” he swallows excitedly as tears start to form in his eyes, “You have the Roughriders on TV?
“
