HNT-7 Among Other Things

So a stranger drifted in the other day. The "muse" of the boss, who is a married man, asking for a favour. Tomorrow I have to meet the guys wife, with whom we also work (she: interior designer, I: architect, company: contractors), and try not to mimic 'I beg your pardon but your husband is a cheating bastard and I wish to gods you have a toy-boy' using any part of my face. Balancing the crime is dynamite on paper. Anyhew. None of my business. I've been told I brew a good cup of coffee. I'm sipping a mug of it right now. Nothing fancy, yet neither too sweet, nor too strong. A difficult equilibrium. But what is good coffee worth without a pair of hands other than mine getting warm around another mug of it. Hands of the queen bee around whom the hive of my fantasies is built. Anyway, enough from that pit.