June 22, 1914

Determined not to repeat the lustful mistakes that caused my banishment, I did not fall in love. I fell for loveliness. Beauty usually does not hold my attention for long. It is like the lilacs that line the streets, I smell them, enjoy, and then walk on.  I saw a strong swimmer at the hot springs pool, and she effortlessly swam many laps from end to end. Her arms lifted from the water, shot forward and then pulled downward. With her fluttering legs kicking, she completed a graceful motion that glided her through the water.  A puff of steam from the warm water shrouded her figure momentarily and then she appeared again.

I sat on the grass with my back against a tree and tried not to stare.  I was not successful.  She climbed the steps out of the pool and started walking straight towards me.  Her black bathing costume was revealing, but her beauty would have been a sufficient garment.  A “V” of horizontal white stripes began between her medium sized breasts and finished below her lovely white neck showing muscled shoulders.  Wisps of dripping dark hair slipped from her cap adorned with a drooping red bow.   She looked like a sailor thrown overboard leaving the sea and walking on the shore. She was tall and her hips swayed gently from side to side.

She stood with arms akimbo saying, “You’re British, I hear.”

“I am and apparently, you are too from your accent.”

“I’m an American now.  Where are you from?” Her garrulous frankness was beguiling and put me at ease.

“Salisbury.”

“Ah, Stonehenge.  My mother is from Christchurch.  She married my father and that’s where I was born.  My Papa died young and my mum remarried.  My stepfather is, as he likes to say, ‘100% American.’  We moved to Montauk on Long Island, New York, when I was 15.  That’s where he’s from.  He’s in the shipping business and was rarely home, but we travelled to England too. We, rather they, have a house in Christchurch too.  I guess that’s why I still have an accent.”

“Why did you come to Steamboat Springs?”

“To be a schoolteacher, but really Tuberculosis, the dry climate has helped.  I didn’t like school teaching, but I would teach children to swim.  I work for Mr. Bashor, the undertaker.”

“Really? Surprising, what do you do for him?”

“Makeup, everyone needs a little powder.  Some people need a lot more than that.  It gives me extra money, but people aren’t dying every day.  After my Papa died, my mum started selling cosmetics until she married Daddy Bigbucks.”

I stared at her for a moment, distracted by her grape green eyes with tiny dark speckles and ventured, “So, you don’t like your stepfather?”

“I should be grateful, he adopted me, and I grew up in a good situation.  My mother has everything she ever wanted in life.  I’m happy for her.”

We sat in silence briefly and then she stood up, “I’m getting chilled and I need to dress.  I spend my afternoons lying in the sun.  Treatment, you know.  Nice to meet you, Julius.”

“You know my name?”

“I do,” she replied smiling with lips and eyes while sauntering away.

“What’s your name?” I almost shouted.

“Corina,” she mischievously cooed like a dove.

Beauty is ecstasy and as simple as hunger. Satisfied, I watched her until she disappeared in the bath house.