To one side of the room was Martin's pride and joy, a big, expensive camera on a tripod, aimed at a bare patch of carpet. It had some kind of mechanis... affixed to it, which the lovely librarian couldn't identify but which reminded her of a kitchen timer."What's this?" she asked, turning. Martin stood beaming proudly at the array."Haven't you guessed?" he asked. He steered her by the arm to stand in front of the camera. He stepped to it and made an adjustment. When he stepped back to his aunt's. That night, though, my mind started to wander further. I smiled at the thought of his messy, unkempt hair that made him look at least five years younger than he actually was. I imagined wrapping my hands around his waist and pulling his slender body against my own. I couldn’t remember the last time that I had wanted to touch someone that badly. I thought to myself, ‘If I can just touch that small pool of freckles below his ear – just once – I can stop coming here. I can go home and continue. More

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