He’s on the way…”’It wasn’t much of a gamble. He was her friend, someone we liked and respected, and was good company. But we weren’t sure...anything would happen. Or even if we’d want it to. After an enjoyable evening, and perhaps sensing a moment alone was needed, our friend went to the toilet. We looked at each other. We both knew what the other was thinking. She grinned the grin that says “Can we?”. By the time he came back downstairs, she was kneeling over me on the couch, skillfully rolling. I met new people, one man showed me furniture he makes from scrap pieces of granite and marble. I took some pictures of the tables he had made, but couldn't really appreciate the beauty. My heart was like a stone.There were children in her home, grandchildren of hers, and I managed to keep up my friendly facade while around them. I played with the children, allowing them to lead me off into one of the fields to pick berries from one of the many fruit trees surrounding the house. The children. More

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