George, Harold… She begins to suspect the answer is beyond her reach. She sends out fingers of desire, need, thought- tries to project them into her...past, pull out something stable. The images seep through her fingers like fine sand peppered with doubt. Irving, Johnothan, Kenneth, Lyle… She has a deep envy of the living. She is tired of her half-existence. She is tired of being sad, tired of not even minding that someone her age should grieve. And in the thin bony box of her head she. Our restaurant was quite chilly on a reliable basis. Having neglected to wear anything besides her shirt, I was immediately drawn to the two hardened buds staring at me from her chest.We were alone in the outer foyer and she made it obvious that she saw me noticing her. I heard her sigh, my eyes found hers nonchalantly awaiting the moment when I finally realized I was caught."Hey? Bryan? Up here, please? Look. I know I'm attractive and that sometimes what I wear isn't exactly the best choice,. More

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