"There are three things you can do with a woman: love her, suffer for her or turn her into literature." Lawrence Durrell
Durrell must surely qualify as a lesser novelist who never quite grew up. This may account for why I like his work.
Jody swears he will sue me for libel if I directly discuss in a public blog his three things you can do with a woman. Strong stuff, my friend. Walk your walk next time. I can't quote you anyway. What if children were to read this? Or the elderly? They may experience great pain over things they can no longer get up to, and frankly, hadn't realized you could do until they read that Kinsey fellow's report that made well thumbed rounds of the poker club back in the 1950s.
The scene: a field in Western Mass at sunset. Folding canvas chairs with cup holders under a porch umberella, yet no porch, a ragged yard full of flowering clover that looks half like a construction site and half like a state campground picnic area - horse shoe pits, a pile of lumber, a stack of roofing shingles, a fire pit.
The characters: two shirtless and shoeless thirty-something men in running shorts and their 2,000 mosquito friends.
The action: swatting mosquitos and drinking beer they discuss life, love, financial over commitment and why cats stupidly run toward horse shoes as they fly through the air and skid across the ground.
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