Solomon's Vineyard

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She walked towards-the waiting-room. She had gold-blonde hair, and curves, and breasts the size of Cuban pineapples. Every now and then, walking, she'd swing a hip until it looked like it was going out of joint and then she'd throw it back in place with a snap, making the buttocks quiver under this dress that was like black skin. I guess she knew I was following her.

A big limousine waited beyond the magazine stand. I stood in the shadow of an apple machine and watched her get in. Her legs were strong, like a dancer's. I was staring at the white flesh above the silk stocking when the chauffeur closed the door and took her bags from a redcap and put them in front. He gave the redcap four bits and climbed back of the wheel. She had been looking straight ahead, but suddenly she turned to the window and smiled at me. Her smile said: We could have fun together, big boy.

The limousine went away. I watched until it was out of sight. Some doll) Maybe the town wouldn't be so bad after all. It was hot on the platform and I felt sweat ooze under my arms. I showed my bags to the redcap and called a cab. The train began to pull out of the station, the engine throwing steam on a baggage truck. I gave the redcap two bits and got in the cab. It had a sign saying: Anywhere in town —50c. The driver didn't bother to close the door.

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