He climbed the ladder to wash windows before company was due to dine outside on stellar lemon salmon from the Weber where he cooked without the taint of lighter fluid.
His left hand grasped a ladder rung while his right hand sprayed Windex. She knew him to be erudite. He read the daily news thoroughly before he bunched it to wipe windows to a shine.
Then, when she saw brief flames rise from the metal chimney to infuse the briquette pillows with a glow, saw him spread the bed of coals below the foil-sheeted grill, she found it mildly arousing.
EDITOR’S NOTE: This poem was selected from entries submitted to our Creative Challenge Series #15: Last Sentences, which required that the last sentence in the text must be used as given. Read other Creative Challenge winners. To find out how to participate, go to Creative Challenges.