The fisherman lived in the scrub-brush hills above a village on the southeast coast of Cypress, he owned in a small hut near an olive grove on a cragg... hill that looked down on the sea. He had built the house for himself and his wife less than twenty years ago, after they had fled their homeland – Palestine – in 1967. The old fisherman lived alone now, he had for several years now, he still sat by the stone on the earth most evenings – the stone that covered his wife – while he said his prayers. “So, a weekend of amazing sex and now you’re kicking us out?”“Ouch!” I said, smiling in reply. “I think that was a little harsh, but the sex was amazing wasn’t it! Is this the point where everyone gets embarrassed and tries to work out where we go from here?”“I think so honey!” She laughed. “Thank God we’re not bumbling, insecure teenagers anymore!”“Amen to that!” I replied. “So, ladies first? And please be completely honest, you have the girls to consider as well as yourself.” She took a deep. More

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