Ring a Bell

Ursula knows exactly what she likes, and she watches the girl like a hawk from her corner of the lounge. There’s something familiar about that smooth jawline, that way of standing. Then the names meet in the air between them. Candy. Old Mrs. Voss next door. The image snaps into place—stringy kid in pigtails, now standing tall in heels that catch every curve she owns. Years have done their work; the skinny legs are silk, the mouth lush. Candy smiles the slow, knowing smile of someone who wants her attraction seen. Ursula answers with a whisper meant only for her. “You’ve grown into quite the tease, haven’t you?” Candy leans in, the warmth of her bare shoulder brushing Ursula’s arm, and leaves the older woman a breath of perfume and intention.