Namio, but with a lighter touch

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‘Remember when we were younger?’ says Diana. ‘I wanted to learn to play the guitar. Do you remember me playing?’

‘Yes, I remember,’ says Jaime. ‘You wore your hair short like a British girl from the sixties.’

‘Oh, I had forgotten that!’ says Diana. ‘You never mentioned that you liked it!’

‘You told me to be quiet while you were playing,’ said Jaime.

‘And what about that summer we went to Tarragona and you said that other girl resembled me?’ says Diana.

‘You were so unfair’ says Jaime. ‘I said that you were beautiful!’

‘So, are you saying she was as beautiful as me?’ says Diana.

‘No,’ says Jaime, recalling the blisters.


‘And what about that winter when you said I had put on weight,’ said Diana.

‘Once again, you were so unfair’ said Jaime. ‘I said that I liked it that you had put on weight!’

‘So, you are saying I had put on weight?’ said Diana.

‘No,’ says Jaime, recalling the aches in his arms.


Then Diana finishes with a moan, and releases Jaime from beneath her feet just enough so that he may clean up after her. The room now smells of woman, salt, and nectar.

‘All in all, Jaime, it does not seem that you know how to pay me a compliment,’ she said when she had drawn breath.

‘I will compliment you now,’ says Jaime. ‘You taste like the wine.’

‘Are you saying I am ageing well?’ says Diana.

Jaime could see no way to answer this without danger, and so remained silent while he finished the meal.

Later, he was sat upon, while she explained to him patiently the finer points of flattering a woman.

(This domestic fantasy inspired by a series of pictures by Namio Haruwaka that are slightly different from his normal style.)

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