Tuesday, June 8, 2010

159. He was a hard man

His hands were soft and pink, showing no evidence of calluses from physical labour, or weathering from exposure to the elements. His nails were clean and neatly trimmed, with neither inflamed cuticles nor frayed quicks. His fingers were the long slender fingers of a pianist, with finely structured knuckles that rose to a refined mons rather than a broad anus.

His shoulder muscles flexed powerfully as he rose to his full height, adjusting the angle between torso and thigh to stand with more ease. His full height was an intimidating weapon in his physical armoury that he used to great effect. However, his body carried evidence of over indulgence and podgy pockets of excess flesh sat unbecomingly within both shirt and trouser. His throat and cheeks were quick to flush and perspire when under either external or internal pressure.

Roy’s hardness, however, was of the heart, not of the body.


Joan Elizabeth said...

I just don't look at people in that much detail!!

Clytie said...

wow, I can picture his every move.