of his normal routine.
“What am I going to do at church today?” he asked himself out loud. “All my prayers are answered. I met Donna. We’ll soon be together. I should sleep some more now, for I’ll be up late a lot before long.”
With a clear conscience and a smile, he lay his head down again on his pillow and pulled the covers over his head, planning to sleep till noon. After a few minutes of calm relaxation and a steady descent to a slumbering state, where the specter of Donna awaited, beckoning him with all sorts of suggestive body language, he suddenly threw the covers off and shot up into a sitting position, as if a siren had sounded.
“Donuts,” he exclaimed. “There’s free donuts today. How could I forget? I have to go to church.”
Now fully alert and invigorated by his insatiable appetite for free food, he hurried to get out of bed. He was forced to slow down and act with more caution when he felt a twitch in his lower back. While he stood next to his bed, rubbing the spot where the twitching had occurred, his Blackberry rang. He walked carefully to the couch to pick it up. There was a text message from Linda: “Lets go hike, lazybones. You should. Im waiting.”
“She needs a dog,” he said in disgust. “A big, hyperactive one. Two dogs would be better.”
He deleted the message and tossed the Blackberry back on the couch. While he showered and dressed for church, he hummed swing dance tunes that he had played yesterday and sang snatches of lyrics. The lyrics he returned to most often were those for “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.”
When he had dressed and had a cup of coffee, skipping any solid food since he would be having plenty of donuts later at the church’s expense, he left his apartment. He continued to hum dance tunes, while he walked toward the lobby. He wore a nondescript short-sleeve polo shirt and khakis, like he would wear to work.
Since the front desk wasn’t staffed on the weekends until the afternoon, Bill didn’t expect to see anyone in the building before he exited. The complex had only two floors and less than ninety apartments. Very few residents appeared to him to leave their apartments on Sunday morning for any reason, especially before nine, which was about half an hour away. Merrily, he hummed along, thinking primarily of donuts, although Donna was a close second.
As he turned into the lobby and looked ahead toward the door, he came to an immediate, involuntary, hum-halting stop. He stood immovable, soundless, speechless, stunned. He didn’t know who that was standing near the exit. He had never seen such a stranger in the building or the town. He completely forgot about Donna. Even the free donuts slipped from his mind. He lost control over his body and mind. He could only stare and barely breath, transfixed by what he saw.
There, like a goddess of the ancient Greeks, or an actress of Hollywood decades ago—a mesmerizing spectacle of youth and beauty that numbs the mind and ignites desires—stood Helen. She was wearing the long-sleeve, see-through blouse, the one that had shocked her and Joan the day before, over a barely visible, lacy, flesh-colored bra, with a sleek, lustrous skirt that fell above her knees. Her sheer stockings and high heels, which both had a sheen to them, contributed to her dazzling appearance. The wig she had on was similar in color to her dark brunette hair, but it was much longer and coiled tightly into a chignon with no loose hairs. It was an elegant hairstyle that showed off her neck, small pearl earrings, and a single-strand pearl necklace. A subtle use of makeup, except for the dark red of her lips, completed her chic, yet racy appearance. When Bill first saw her, she was standing in profile, holding a jacket, which matched her skirt, over her shoulder furthest from him, with her other hand on her hip. The curves of her contour were clearly visible. Her chest was raised, and one knee was slightly bent forward. Some might say that she resembled a high-class hooker, but to Bill she was a dream incarnate, a fantasy come to life.
Helen turned slowly to look him in the eyes. After a pause of intense eye contact, she purred in a low, sultry voice, “Good morning, Bill.”
Shaken as he was to the very marrow of his bones, although he now realized he