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There's a book about him. I sent for it."As a concrete-abstract painter during the 1950s and 60s, Olle Baertling (1911-1981) developed a personal pictorial universe, while also occupying a firm position among the "Salon des Realites Nouvelles" and Galerie Denise Rene in Paris. His work was highly influential on American Op artists and Minimalists like Donald Judd."If you're going to write about Williams, you'll need to know more about other abstractionists." Exactly. But I was thinking about it because you and I seem to know what we're doing, yet our siblings are somewhat adrift." It's us who are eccentric, not Al nor Sarah. I'll bet most college students aren't sure as to what they want to be when they grow up."Rachel squeezed my hand. "As though you're going to grow up soon!" WOWCOW or Gelato Blue?" I asked."Gelato Blue. I love their sour cherry."I ordered macadamia and we sat upstairs for a while. When they closed at eleven, we strolled home. Henry was gone; Sarah had put the bed. She opened her eyes and smiled at him...He kissed her mouth and pressed himself against her, rubbing her with his hardened length. She whispered encouragement to him and he pushed himself into her, loving how she expanded around him.She squirmed back against the door, against the towels that hung there, knocking one loose. He stayed still in her, holding her hips to his, feeling her adjust to him.She rotated her hips, fitting him inside her... and then she smiled. He pulsed in and out, gently, using short thrusts, and she pulsed with him. He leaned against her and kissed her deeply, feeling her pulsing grow stronger. He pulled back, easing out of her slowly, watching as she sighed in delight. He took her hands in his and pinned them to the door behind her, and then pushed back in, deliberately, feeling her spread around him all over again. There was a knock on the door behind them. Julia's eyes flew open and she stared at him, smiling. "Just a minute," she called, desperately.
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At first it was a tender meeting of their lips, but it quickly became firm and passionate and their arms went around each other. A couple of minutes later their mouths parted and Lawrence pulled off Abigail’s cap and ran a hand through her blonde hair. ‘We don’t have time for that, husband,’ she chided, ‘as much as I wish it were otherwise.’ He released her and she put the cap back on and then tucked the wayward strands beneath it. They smiled warmly at each other and then parted as they heard Millie’s approach. ‘It’s good to see you act like your old self, husband.’ He chuckled. ‘A bit of time alone with you works wonders, wife.’ He leaned forward and whispered into her ear, ‘We can discuss your paddling tonight, in our room.’ Abigail giggled, knowing full well that with both Millie and Jacob in their home there was likely to be no intercourse of the kind that she and Lawrence most craved. She decided then and there that once the Americans left she would have to devise ways to get.

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