Kane couldn’t possibly find Bronwyn attractive any more. Perhaps when the two of them had been young, before Bron had—well lets just say she’d gone to seed. Her appreciation of fashion seemed to have ended some time in the 1950s and her hair looked like it was done with those old curlers grandmas use. She spent neither time nor money on her appearance. She simply didn’t care.
Laura had more pride. She insisted on regular waxing, tanning, buffing and filling, not to mention gym sessions.
Kane remained however, in spite of his wife’s dowdiness, a devoted husband. There wasn’t much Laura could do about that. But just to know that should his eye ever wander, it need not have to wander further than the house next door, that thought kept her happy. And a time would come when he would realise. These were her thoughts as Laura went through her pre-bed moisturising routine.
Next door Kane climbed into bed. Bronwyn’s softness against him at the end of each day made him truly wonder at his good fortune in life.
Back at number 28, her face done, Laura eyed the small patch of matress beside the bovine spread of her snoring husband.
small stories about love 