The wind coiled around him, prepared to push him again, and it seemed to him that it almost felt sorry for doing so. The air tightened before him, and...with what seemed a hint of melancholy, pitched him backwards over the edge. He flipped backwards, head over heels, his body rotating almost gracefully through the empty space. People all over were screaming and running around trying to do something, but all this seemed to reach him through a hazy fog, as if something had cast a web over his. But I didn’t mind, it reminded me of when I used to be scared baby and slept on them, they were my pillow. That’s what I called them and she used to laugh about it, I guess she was flattered. Then it was my chest to be washed, she rubbed me, as if she is feeling them with their hands more than she is cleaning me, she even scratched it me abit and let out light moan. That it hit her when she realized it. Then she rubbed my shoulders, arms but didn’t wash my hands since they were on my crouch.. More

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