"Do you have any of the Chianti left?" "I don't know, I'll have a look in the storeroom" Five minutes or so passed, then I heard "there is one bottle ...ut I can't reach it, could you help me?" I walked into the storeroom, to the left there was a separate cupboard filled with alcohol, I walked in, she had her back to me the bottle was above her head, as I put my hand out to reach for it I could smell her perfume, I could feel her press herself against me, I moved her hair, exposing the back of. But what about her? Was this really my perfect woman? I’d never seen her have a bout of PMS, maybe this was her first. Women! Go figure. We walked in silence after she shook her head, giving me one of those looks. ‘Men!’ was all she said. After passing another few darkened storefronts, though, she softened and took my hand. I decided not to ask from whence that outburst came. I learned later. In any event, the handholding made me feel like we’d reconciled (for whatever fight we’d just had).. More

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