"Perhaps," he said, sitting down on the cushions. He had learned from the Ambassador never to agree, never to disagree, in these discussions. Another ...irl appeared to serve them tea. This one wore - what was it Tracey had called them? – ‘manuses’, although these looked more practical than decorative to Gerry. As she turned to leave Gerry saw that the backs of her thighs and calves were criss-crossed with bright red wheals presumably from a beating for some infringement of Kushnar’s. I said that I was sorry to hear that, if you needed someone to talk to I’m here for her.A week after our conversation at the elevator, I was coming home and I notice her at my door. She looked my way and said hey I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me; she had two containers full of food in her hands and I said that would be awesome and we went into my apartment. She had on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, she still looked sexy as fuck in it, but it didn’t reveal much but you. Anything of their's gets the dancers. I looked over at the girls before the next song, and pointed to Tim, who was stepping up to the mic. He does a killer version of "Hound Dog". You'd think that soft smooth voice would totally blow it, but it doesn't. As it came to a close, Amy and Lucille were clapping and hollering as loud as anyone else.I started a slow 12 bar blues. It was the only song of "ours" that we actually play. The whole band is on the copyright as "writers" because we wrote it. I desired every bit of her.Just our fingertips are touching. That's enough sometimes.I reach across her and pick up a sheet of notepaper that's filled on both sides with blue handwriting. I had folded and unfolded that piece of paper hundreds of times, and the creases are becoming so thin I fear the paper will rip and I'll lose a section. And so, I read. I read the words written on the notebook page every day –- sometimes several times a day –- as a meditation. As a novena. As a prayer. It's my.
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