WOMAN HOE SEX

A lovely girl

A Rotten Night’s Sleep

A Shocking

A Shudder

A Side-Turning

A Struggling

All This Mainlining On Words

Cabinet Mirror

Catha Suddenly

Face Up

Fair Enough

Fair- Mindedness

Flying Buttress  in Bronze

For Chrissake

Fuel Cables

Full Of Echo's

Gold Chain Around His Neck

Half- Stefan Crossing

Having To Work

Heterosexuality

I Never Went Back

I Want To See You

In a Minute

In Frankfurt

In Hertfordshire

In Marxist

I could feel his tongue in my ear.

In Sussex

John Marx Stefanovitch

Julia

Kiss the envelope  for luck

Letter from Alison to Stefan

Letter  from Stefan to Alison

Listen Darling

Malleus malefactum

Mmmm’ Noises.

Mortality In Relation

My Beloved

Nancy Friday

‘Observe the wolf pack.

Our Relationship

Out- Stretched

Own Glass Still

In Marxist

Ros was squirting tomato sauce on her face up chips and sitting with her back to the fryer facing the juke-box. We were a bit surprised that she had not bothered to cook lunch for us. She said she was pissed off with the whole bloody kitchen-rota business. Just because she was a good cook, the other women were not pulling their weight. As far as she was concerned they could choke to death on doner kebab. She was into fish. Since she must have known that Catha thought it was as cruel to kill a cod as to kill a Iamb, this was obviously meant to be provocative. Which was why I was so quick to get the sheaf of info on the properties out to show her. Ros said all the properties we liked the look of were too far away. The street they lived in was not exactly ritzy, but as they formed the support nucleus for the group, what was the point of us coming to live in a rich man ‘s ghetto at the other end of town? A clash on capitalists in Marxist clothing seemed imminent. But Catha became icily polite and offered to pay for Ros’s cod and chips instead. And Ros was so touched by Catha’s obvious hurt that she apologized for being grumpy.
From then on the myth day went pretty well. We went back to the house and sat in the garden on some precarious deck-chairs. In fact we had a good laugh when Ros fell through one. And the rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of sunshine punctuated by distant arguments and the occasional sound of breaking crockery from inside the house. Catha and I did not view a single property in the end. But we did go into the estate agent’s before we left and, in deference to Ros, asked to be sent only those houses or flats in or near to her street.

We were about an hour into the journey home when Catha began to tell me what she really thought of Ros. Her fury and resentment broke with such force we had to pull off the road and stop in a lay-by. She said that, because of her charismatic personality, Ros reckoned she could lord it over the group like some fucking dictator. I pointed out that Catha had charisma too. She said that the rest of them were a bunch of sycophantic sluts. I said, as Catha’s personality was easily as strong as Ros’s, I foresaw all manner of clashes ahead. I said that probably their both being born under the sign of Aries had something to do with it. It was then that Catha turned on me.
‘What the fuck has that got to do with anything?’
‘I simply mean we do seem to be setting ourselves our relationship for one God-awful flower struggle. As bad or worse than anything designed by men.’
This sobered her considerably and we restarted our journey. She said it was not just my sensitivity that she valued but also the way I could cut a path right to the heart of a problem. She supposed she just had an urge to move, not necessarily to join Ros and her friends. Yes, perhaps it would be more honest to say that she had reached that point in life when one moved on. I had reached it too.
‘I mean, one could as well go to Liverpool or Stoke-on -Trent. ‘
‘Too cold.’
‘Cornwall then.’
In fact in her mind’s eye we wandered further and further a field until she said it was pretty unimaginative of us to automatically assume we had to live in England. When there was Ireland. France. East Africa. Canada. Sri Lanka. By the time we got to Reading she had emigrated to Australia and my patience was wearing thin.
I said, ‘Perhaps it would be safest to assume that in ten years’ time we’ll still be Seymour sitting London and dreaming of Moscow.’
‘That’s typically defeatist of you. Why shouldn’t we turn our dreams into reality?’
‘Well, I’m not sure what my dreams are.’ ‘And that’s bloody typical too.’
We passed the remainder of the journey in silence. And even the next morning the atmosphere was soured.
‘All night I kept wondering if I can live with your competitive spirit, Alison.’ ‘And I your arrogance.’ ‘If you feel like that.’
‘We’ll talk about it later.’
‘Of course. We must talk the whole thing through,’ She kissed me before she left for work, but I decided it would be a good idea to have a few days apart. We had to be honest with ourselves first, rather than rush into an orgy of blood-letting with each other. Our relationship was special enough for us both to be confident that we Stefan would always be friends, come what may.

Petite-Bourgeoisette

Psycho-Ops

Remember celebrating

Seafood Filling

Self-Discipline

Self-Immolation

Seymour Warned

Seymour

Socio Economic

Soul Love

Stefan to Alison

Stefan winked.

Stefan

Stefanovitch speaking

Straggers Backwards

The Best Nurturing

The Heart of Paris

The Insidiousness

The Myth of the Vaginal Orgasm,

The Priest and the Penitent

The Shutters

The Sorbonne

Then Leave It

Today the Chief recommends

You Basterd