"I had a dream about Mark," said Chrissie, smirking. "Oh, and what exactly was it about..?" asked Becca teasingly. "Him fucking the shit out of me if ...ou must know," replied Chrissie. "You slut, having sex dreams while sleeping next to your best friend!" said Becca. "Shut up, you know you love it." Indeed she did. Chrissie pulled another chair towards her, folding one leg underneath her and resting the other one on the chair. Becca looked down and almost gasped. She could see Chrissie's perfect. He was—must be—on the dais.He stood regarding the colors with a new sense of fascination. He reached out for them as if they would have some physical presence. He remembered distinctly that first time, at age three, when a photographer snapped a flashbulb in his eyes. The child Wesley had wandered around the room for several seconds with hands outstretched trying to catch one of the balloons that floated before his eyes. Wesley chuckled in mirth at the reminiscence as he once again reached out. More

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