He didn’t usually drink. It was his wife – more accurately now his ex-wife – who liked to have her evening ‘relaxer’. ‘Anything you can do... I can do better’ His voice was cracked and harsh, redolent with pain. So he started to laugh but it sounded to him like sobbing. Time passed. The shaft of sunlight falling into the room moved slowly to one side then disappeared. The streetlights came on and still he sat, sometimes mumbling but mostly silent. In his silence he remembered. There was no. Encrypted. Pull my fingernails, but I have a password that's gonna take an NSA computer to pick out, and my stuff is private.I'm writing this into one of those sticks. It's Monday after one of the weekends I've waited all my life for. That's also one of those weekends that I thought would happen to ME right after the six o'clock news reported that the main streets of Hell were plagued by rolling snowballs piling up too deep.I won't bore you with my sad story. I live with Gramma, Mom's mom.. As I got on with my tasks Kate breezed into the kitchen in her usual youthful way and put the coffee machine on. As she reached up into the cupboard to get the cups she stood on tip toes, her bare feet looking so cute at the bottom of her freshly shaved legs. She wore a short pleated white skirt with a tight purple T-shirt that had colourful swirls around the front. As she reached up I was surprised at how high the skirt rose and was sure I could see the bottom of her buttocks and had to look. We hugged for several seconds before she let go and pulled her shirt over her head. She wore a lacy purple bra, which surprised me. I don't know what I had expected her to be wearing, but it had caught me off guard. Given the circumstances, I suppose I had expected something plainer.She tugged down her skirt and stepped out of it and I stepped forward and kissed her again. As we pressed our lips together, I slinked my hands around her back and unbuttoned her bra, which was more difficult than I.
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