He needed the solace and silence of the night to really dig in and find his rhythm in writing.He tackled short stories and short books with relative e...se but it was the elusive full-length novel that seemed to elude him like a thief being pursued by the authorities. He wondered, was he the thief, or the authorities? Sometimes he felt like both, his writing seemed like he was running, but was he running towards something or away from it? Other times he felt very much in pursuit, chasing his. Wendy talking about her had brought a small tear to my eye, for Clare was very beautiful and I still loved her dearly. What I needed was her on her back with her legs open wide and me pounding between them."I'll just make you comfy, do some tea and then I must be off," said Wendy."Thanks sis," I said."Right I'll be off," she called out, "Oh, I'll answer it," she added as the doorbell rang."Look who's here," she said, letting Clare enter my bedroom."Hi Bill, how are you doing?" she asked."Much. More

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