I looked up and saw quite the specimen looking back at me.He was about 6’2 with skin the colour of twix chocolate bar. He had short wavy hair and tw... diamond studs protruding from each ear. He was wearing khaki cargo shorts and a sleeveless tank top which was showing off his immaculate biceps which were decorated by numerous tattoos.He lifted the Gucci shades which covered his face to reveal the most sensuous green eyes I had ever seen. ‘I think I have the window seat,’ he said with a deep. Most women are fortunate enough to have experienced most sorts, and we’re as females lucky that we have so many to choose from. But let’s pay tribute to the “little fella” as someone so endearingly put it, recently. The Little Fella I smile and make that “Mm” noise as I look at you, and I mean really look at you as if I’m about to lose my sight and need to capture the image in my mind for all eternity. “What?” you say with a cheeky grin and those sexy eyes that I wish you would save only for. He smiled, "Who do you think is paying for this?"She looked at him for a minute, "You mean that you're going to make the police force pay for this?"He nodded and gave her a sly smile, "Sure, you look like a dangerous criminal and I'm going to see if I can get any information out of you. I'll probably have to arrest you right after we finish eating."She chuckled, "Isn't charging this to the police force illegal?" Not if they don't know about it. I'm sure that you know that cops don't make a lot. But it just as well might have been a man. OrGod. Or a horse, or a fence-post, or, for that matter, a cantaloupe. Arevisionist literary theorist could write a fairly well-reasoned booksupporting any of those hypotheses, as well as a dozen others equally ifnot more bizarre. "Edgar Birdwell: First Poet Lover ofExtraterrestrials."Marcia could see it on the Hope Crossing library bookshelf now. Ofcourse, like Birdwell, she'd have to publish it herself.In the end, what was inspiring about Birdwell.