Like something tearing; cloth tearing. She could feel him close to her face. His lips on hers. Another kiss which she accepted and returned. Then an...ther feeling on her forehead, down her temple, down her cheek and then to the other side. What was that. It was soft and tickled somewhat; like a feather. Where would he get a feather? Was it a feather? It was on her neck, under her chin, all around. Then, she could feel it on her nipple. It really tickled, but it felt good too. Down her. ’ To cover his uncertainty he gets up and moves to the cabinet in the corner. ‘I think this calls for a drink. Brandy all right?’ ‘I guess so.’ As she stretches an arm and takes the drink from him she looks deep in his eyes. Then, almost bemused she looks at the glass, throws her head back, drains it in one gulp and sets it on the small coffee table. ‘Make love to me Peter. Hide the memory. Make me new.’ Standing, automaton like, she starts to undress. First her blouse, then her bra fall to. More

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