Care to join me?" She pointed to a narrow track leading off the main path into a clearing where the local council had built some basic exercise bars out of pine logs. "Perhaps you could help me. My muscles are a bit stiff." She glanced down in the direction of my running shorts. I could feel my erection rising. "Seems I'm not the only one who's feeling stiff," she said, with a smile that was as wicked as they come. "Perhaps you need a bit of special exercise, too." She reached both arms up to grab at an overhead bar, her body at full stretch, her back turned towards me. "Help me pull up," she said. It was a request I couldn't refuse. I clasped her around the waist, feeling taut abdominal muscles, just the thin layer of cotton between my hands and her skin. She bent her arms and pulled gently upwards, helped by the pressure of my hands, then lowered herself until her feet touched the ground. "Again," she said. "But this time a bit firmer and higher I think" She flexed and bent. This time there is no affection in the gaze, no love in the voice. This time there is bitterness, like the bad aftertaste of a longed for treat that turns sour in the mouth. As old scars show white on skin burned by the sun, so bad memories burn bright under her gaze. ‘My husband, my dear EX husband. How nice of you to attend my little performance. How unusual of you to actually be anywhere that I wanted you, to pay me any attention, to linger on my words’ She drinks again, refills the glass. There is not much left in the bottle now, but it will suffice. There is only a short time left. ‘It may surprise you to know, dear ex husband, that I know exactly where you are and what you have been doing all these years. Indeed, when I knew that tonight’s performance was inevitable, I had a very good detective find out a great deal about you. It seems you haven’t done to well since we parted company all those years ago. That squalid little house you live in, is that really the best you can do?.
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