For a forty-three-year-old, James was in excellent condition. He enjoyed exercise, and had a weekly routine that kept him fit and slim. He knew he was a creature of habit, but felt secure in knowing that his day and routine were carefully planned. Consequently, he felt extremely frustrated if for some reason he was prevented from following his schedule precisely; the repetitions, the order of his exercise routine, the length of his daily run, etc. All had to be just so. And as it was with his exercise routine, so it was in every other aspect of his life; order and precision were his watchwords, they prevailed above everything.
But today, this obsessive-compulsive guy had a big problem - his sister, whom he'd not seen in five years, had arrived unexpectedly and he'd been obliged to accommodate her for the week. And worse! She was his diametric opposite in terms of order and routine. She was the personification of disorder. A capricious elf with virtually no sense of self-discipline or regularity.
Nonetheless, Christiana had always beguiled James. There was a tension between them that had never been adequately expressed, but they both knew it existed and that being under the same roof would heighten its force. She was his younger by nine years, with slender limbs and a good curvy body. Her exquisite eyes beamed forth a personality that was fifty percent mystery wedded to fifty percent chaos. They were eyes endowed with natural hypnotic strength, and James was now the subject of a gaze that pierced through flesh and bone to something deep inside.
"Stop that, Chris."
"Stop what?" she asked, smiling disingenuously.
James sighed and smiled back. "you know perfectly well; your hypnotic Svengali gaze won't render me into a gullible zombie, I've not succumbed to that ploy since we were kids. Now, come on, what's on your mind?"
"Don't fret, James. I simply need a place to stay for a week until I get a few things sorted out. I know this is your little patch of neurotic heaven and I'll do my best not to disrupt your ordered life"
"I'm not a neurotic!"
"Oh yeah, and I suppose the Pope isn't Catholic! You're as neurotic as hell! Suppose I were to drop a few crumbs on the carpet, or make a meal and leave a sink-full of dirty dishes, you couldn't resist the compulsion to clean up! Leaving them would drive you insane. And you're such a stickler for social protocol and behaving correctly."
"Yes, alright, being scrupulous and maintaining correct social standards did once dominate my life. But I'm much more relaxed these days. You might even say I'm becoming quite a Bohemian."
"Bohemian!" Christiana squirmed with laughter. "You'll never be Bohemian, don't be absurd!"
"Okay sister, you'll find over the week that I'm much more laid-back than I used to be." James asserted himself much more in self-defence than truth.