It was mid August; Henry relied on the minuscule department store fan to circulate what little air was trickling into his apartment. He stared straight ahead, fighting his urge to glance at the answering machine. Perhaps there was a message from Miriam. But he knew the answer. He had already checked the machine five times. The phone hadn't even rang. He thought for a moment that perhaps his ringer was off. Or in some strange twist of fate he hadn't happened to hear it ring. But he knew the truth. She wasn't going to call. He was sure she had found some thing much more interesting to occupy herself. Why wouldn't the phone ring? Miriam was a chain smoker; she hated children, was incredibly forgetful and often cried out unknown names while they were making love. Yet there was something about her that kept him going. Something that drew him in. She had a strange child-like venerability about her. From the moment he met her he was completely infatuated with her.

just a bit of light story writing...what do you think?? eh? eh?
this is just the half of it....just a mere sample.