“It’s actually a hell of a story. When the book’s done, I’ll make sure to get you an autographed copy.”“Book?!!? You’re writing a book?�...� she blurted out.“No! I’m not, but someone is. The woman is in my support group, but that’s not really where I first met her. One of the other women in the group is a writer, though, and she’s been taking notes to write a novel about how we met.”“That’s exciting!” she said.I could hear her grin through the phone. I was always the son she never had, and I loved. ‘Come on and dance with me’ His eyes widened, mesmerized by the familiar words. He didn’t resist when I pressed him onto his back, Kissing the scar that slashed through the corner of his mouth, the mouth that had sung along to the taxi radio ‘Hey there cutes, put on your dancin’ boots and come dance with me’ invoking thoughts of a laughing and carefree Fred and Ginger, all the while silently wishing that the paramedics would hurry up. Nibbling his bottom lip, testing it’s fit against my own, it. More

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