A Blurb, Perhaps A Story

Sometimes the hunger he felt wasn’t for food. He knew that. Ten years, was it, since he had been with a woman? He had forgotten so much. The moisture, the smells, the moaning, the conversation, the touches all were in the realm of memory. And his yearnings could now be construed as unnatural, predatory, unhealthy, even criminal.

“Do I secure a written release, a hold harmless before I so much as even talk to a woman in whom I am interested?”

Of course, there were no women in his life, so the question was moot.