Please, would you proofread the first part of my short story "Women".
Leif was a man who yearned after women more than anything, especially in the summer when they moved around dressed scantily in short skirts and revealing tops, showing proudly their luscious bodies. There was nothing which could be compared with women. He liked everything about them: their way of talking about clothes, bags, shoes, carpets, curtains, flowers, their voices which reminded them of birds twittering, their subtle play and hidden meanings which not a man could understand.
However, to tell the truth, he did not like every woman he saw. For example, those who were overweight, bespectacled and plain, he did not even deign a glance. Those who were intellectuals, read books and listened to the classical music were not his type either. Most of all he liked the sporty type, those who were slim, had large breasts and long legs. He dreamed about them all the time, although he knew that they were inaccessible like remote countries. Unfortunately, it was another men who possessed them and enjoyed their smooth bodies.
He could not walk on the streets without feeling stabbing pain in his heart. Whenever he found himself in the city centre he saw couple of lovers kissing and hugging each other and not caring about the passers-by and their feelings. If he went into the supermarket he saw them among the shelves and that scene would spoil his shopping and he would immediately rush to the check out counter to pay for the items and leave, sparing himself more pain.
Sometimes during his lunch at a restaurant his eyes would catch a couple holding hands or kissing, and he felt as if a lump started swelling in his throat.
He liked to go to the cinema, but his visits there became meaningless. It was almost impossible to concentrate on a film when there would always be a couple somewhere in darkness, whose endearments made him miserable.
At times he went into a park with the intention to read his paper. He sat on a bench, lent back and opened the paper enjoying fresh air, trees, birdsong and sun, until the moment when he saw a couple sitting on a bench opposite him. His eyes would automatically focus on their hands which passionately squeezed each other, their lips which were like glued to each other, and Leif could not stand it any more. He would jumped up, throw the paper in the dustbin and hurry to his flat, his only safe refuge in this city.
He often thought about how the world was unjust. He, who was humble and never had ill intentions, never hated anyone, never begrudged others' happiness, was doomed to suffering. He felt so fragile. He could not compete with the men who were unscrupulous, who competed with each other, boasted, showed off and picked up attractive women with such easiness as if they were aquarium fish.
TO BE CONTINUED
I wonder if I could write instead, "Whenever he found himself in the city centre he saw some couple of lovers kissing and hugging each other..."