Bad Juju (aláírt példány) [antikvár]

The Dilapidated Isles Jeff Walberg set down his bags and gazed out along the dilapidated dock. Across the looping water of the bay a line of picturesque palms was etched against the sky. Off the dock a figure splashed in the calm surface of the water, churning out a rapid if erratic Australian crawl. Walberg squinted to make out the details. It's a naked woman, he thought. A stark naked woman. Her round white buttocks rolling from side to side recalled the hump of Ahab's famous whale. Or something less profound. Reaching into the pocket of his seersucker jacket, he found the crumpled handkerchief and mopped his brow. The humidity was at 99 percent. He had a hard-on. The swimmer finished her constitutional in a final violent lap and climbed up a rickety ladder onto the dock. Her nude body arched cat-like, as she shook off the water. Leaning down, she swept off a white bathing cap just as the sun