“How long before you can ‘go’ again?” I asked him. He laughed, and then looked down at my face. “You’re serious?” “I was hoping we c...uld… make love?” “I’m sorry, that was selfish of me,” he stood, taking my hand. “Come on, show me the bedroom.” I nearly pulled his arm from the socket dragging him in, the fresh sheets inviting and cool. He stood me at the end of the bed, his fingers on the buttons of my dress, lingering on each one, and my body on fire as his lips found each bit of exposed. Sanders went to the ringing phone saying, ‘It must be Chris.’ ‘Hello, yes.’ And her voice trembled, ‘When? How? Where? We’re on our way. Thank you.’ It was a bewildered Mrs. Sanders speaking now. A really special bond actually had been formed between these two poor souls. ‘Anna, Chris just had a traffic accident and they’re taking him to the hospital. Put on your coat. We’re going.’ Tears fell down Anna’s cheeks and she was worried to death. They took a taxi to the hospital where Chris lay. More

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