This is 21st Century Leda. Our narrator is dallying with a girl in a pub - and has just admitted that he is actually a God. He continues to reminisce to himself...
I'd not seen Leda in here before, and she caught my eye immediately. Sitting at a side table, not far from the door, all on her lonesome, and smiled at me as soon as I walked in. She’s had a couple of alcopops, and she’s mellow and receptive - the way I like women. She’s quite cute – long, dark hair, heart-shaped pale face, big dark eyes, but a hint of strength in the jawline. A soft, low voice. And a nice display of curves. On the other hand, the clothing nowadays – stripping a girl can be really difficult. All these buckles, straps, clasps – too much like hard work in my view. Don't get me started on steampunk fashions. At least this one isn’t a Goth – so many girls think black makeup is fetching.
Still, Leda’s responding nicely. Almost too easy. Another drink, and I can whisk her upstairs away from the racket from the jukebox. I’ve had to give up so much – why shouldn’t I enjoy myself still?
With the same provisos as last week, comments appreciated!