The singlet-wearing man who sang hello through the screen door had, Georgie noted on approach, award-winning arms – if indeed such awards existed. She made a note to consult Google.
After Georgie greeted him, he mentioned something about bins while she, so as to avoid appraising him like deli meat, concentrated madly on holding his gaze.
After he left, Georgie’s husband, James – wondering if Georgie’s bulging eyes might indicate hyperthyroidism – asked who she’d been talking to.
“New neighbour.”
“Good-looking rooster, eh?”
“Didn’t notice,” she replied, then went in search of a cool drink and her laptop.
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