Reluctantly, I dipped my finger in one of the wounds. With a sufficient amount of blood on my finger I went to the wall to write my religious message....I looked on blankly, unsure of what to write. It was probably the worst time to get writer’s block. The blood was clotting fast, I had to make up my mind soon. Something short, yet catchy enough. Nothing came to mind. Finally, after a few minutes of scratching my head I wrote the first thing that came to my mind. Thoroughly embarrassed at my. I reached down and rubbed her butt, "hey?"She grumbled and I grinned, "time to arrest the bad guys."She lifted her head and looked at me before looking around, "sounds good to me."She rolled away and off the bed and walked out naked. I stretched before I moved off the bed and headed for my fresher. After going to the bathroom I took a shower and then got dressed and made the bed. I left and found Phred waiting and she shook her head. I grinned as I headed for the door, "I had to make the bed.. Until that point I hadn’t truly faced the fact that he was gone. Maybe it was the shock wearing off, I don’t know, but as I stared out the attic window to the driveway below it hit me. My husband was dead. My legs may have well crumbled beneath me. I dropped to the floor and laid my chest across the box, my arms beneath my face. I cried. Harder than I did the day the Sheriff’s department called to tell me about the accident, harder than at the funeral and all the days since then. I cried for. You have a great body and shouldn’t be embarrassed.” She smiled at me and didn’t say anything, but she held her eyes locked on mine for a few extra seconds before walking away. “Damn it, I just crossed the line” I thought to myself. Oh well, it was her fault…right? An hour or so later, I had to go to the storage room to find another coffee maker. As I was rummaging around, Shelly had walked in. She said she was looking for more cups and asked if I was alone. When I told her yes, she walked over.
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