No. 22 Pleasure City

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A reliable witness said that he saw her from an upper-story window and described her as a young woman, maybe thirty, wearing a pair of jeans cut low at the hips and a white short-sleeved shirt that showed her muscular upper arms when the billowing, knee-length beige trench coat blew open and off her shoulders because she was walking so fast. Her navel was pierced by something with a diamond in it and the diamond had winked at him with a reflected ray of sunlight.

She was above-average height and wore low-heeled shoes that clattered as she walked along the sidewalk beneath the overhanging branches of trees, and what had drawn him to the window in the first place was the mouth-watering racket of her footsteps echoing in the street. He went directly to the window whenever he heard a woman’s footsteps because he liked to watch them as they walked. He said that this woman’s walk was something special. She was slender and her hips swayed noticeably but unselfconsciously, with confidence and purpose. In his opinion, she was going somewhere in a hurry.

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