then I looked at this lovely font and wanted more for it and from it.

beautiful words deserve beautiful stories.
lively characters full of love and hope and integrity.

I am going to take some time out.

Gather myself and find somewhere to learn to take my self and my desires more seriously.

I long for the San Diego desert, maybe?

Max stretched his long fingers, rubbing the knuckles , letting the crack take away the stiffness of the long drive North.

Looking down at the dust embellishing his loafers in ever deepening layers of  rich ochre, he took a moment with his feet.

No-one was around so he treated himself to a long slow stretch, letting his toes reach against his shoe leather, resisting the urge still to go barefoot. Not that native yet he chuckled to himself before moving to take in the awareness of the ache in the arch and and the tenderness at the ankle. His calves protested at the attention, however gentle, his anglophile love of the gear shift had left a toll, some-one should really introduce him to cruise control. His knees did not creak, he blocked out the sound and gently massaged them , briefly. His buttocks and lower back called him away and he focussed on the letting go. letting the tension bubble through, up his spine , expanding across his shoulders.

he used his diaphragm to strengthen his breathing and core stability, and eased a series of yoga movements through his shoulders and neck.

He wanted to take the shirt from his back, but his city skin would rebel under the desert sky.

he removed his shades for a second to wipe the dew of perspiration from his face.

Shook some movement inot his hair and sighed.

Reaching into the car,he took water and the map. Drank deeply finishing the 7th bottle.
He had less than 12 miles to go.

He wanted to be naked.

Letting the desire ripple gently at his ribcage, he loosened the shirt from where it made a sticky contact with his flesh and closed his eyes for a moment , leaning back against the car.

He sat back down and swung his weary legs back inot the well, his feet found the snug across clutch, brake and accelerator and he settled his back into the drivers seat.

He had made good time, but he allowed himself no more than this 10 minute ritual interlude to refresh, before he pushed his Toyota's sheek and shiny silver nose back onto the road.

he had seen no more than 4 other vehicles since leaving the interstate and not one of them had been built in the same century as his!

He shifted effortlessly through the gears and reaching 50 in less than 10, leaving the last of something of himself in the slipstream.