Aenid

The street was filled with people going about their business. The dampened, cool breeze carried a strong odor of a detergent and everywhere one could look, clothe-lines sagged from heavy loads of slowly drying garments. The kids in patched up, yet bright outfits roamed through the street, yelling at one another and playing games of various kind. Their mothers occupied themselves by washing windows, sweeping their porches or making stacks of dried up clothe inside …

…reread it for the whole time his mind was occupied by the gorgeous goddess visitor in the adjacent house. As Richard quickly realized reading was useless at the particular moment. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate and get back into Chekhov’s “The Bet”, he just could not get his mind off of her. He put the book down again and just closed his eyes resting his head against the thick old tree.