Actually, Charlie was already half-way there. Because it had been too long, the suffering too great, the pain too continuous for it to last any longer...than it had to. This was the opportunity he had been searching for, the point of no return, the fight-or-flight challenge, the go-for-broke proposition that teetered on the universal cliff that was either all life or all death. And Charlie wanted to live, damn it. He wanted to live, and he would grab the first woman he could find at Artie’s. His question about my age made me think about me lack of growth in my upstairs department, event though everything else about me spoke volumes about a great fuck, long blond hair, perfect bum, long legs, and my typical fresh faced grey-eyed beauty look, Swedes are renowned for, I reached into my pocket and produced my matriculation card from Uni, and handed it to him, showing I was eighteen, 'You need to be twenty-one', he said after doing the maths, and still holding onto my card, passing. More

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