I remember life drawing classes when a fairly elderly, male life model wore a leather posing pouch, a triangular scrap of leather with three pieces of string keeping it loosely attached to his body. Every time he changed his pose he would place his watch very carefully on the floor in front of him. Somehow I always seemed to be seated behind him, and briefly, I would be presented with an unusually intimate view. Brief, but striking enough to remember it nearly 15 years on.
Place and date of story Evesham, 1994
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