My Foreign Husband
I stand with my body a little unstable by fatigue, and stagger through the narrow corridor between the armchairs, passing from cabin to cabin until I find the bedroom door.
I don't see anything wrong until I'm already throwing myself in my bed. The sheets smell like flowers, although there are none on the quilt. My desk holds a bucket with ice and a bottle of champagne, next to a large, round tray of fresh Oysters. The wooden cabinet attached to the wall is decorated with three bands of colored light wires, similar to Christmas ornaments, and yet delicate and beautiful.
Bab Populer