He made a light dinner of salad, French bread, and wine. He had a small fire going in the fireplace (this was last March), nice music on the stereo and the lights down. We started with a foot massage using unscented almond oil and went to her back then turned Susan over. By that time she was very ready for anything.Susan's eyes were closed and Bob and I were silent using hand and eye signals tocommunicate. While doing her breasts and belly with the oil, we-at the sameexact time-bent over and took a nipple between out lips. Susan just took in a deep breath and lay very still. Bob then stayed with Susan's breasts and had me move my hands down to her thighs. She parted her legs just a little and raised up; I slipped off her panties. She had been covered with a sheet when we started.Bob reached down and gently parted her labia and indicated with his head for me to go down on her. I hesitated for a moment not sure. He bent over, kissed me, then whispered in my ear that I and Susan would. Has it been seven?In sadness and shame, my parents took to their graves after three of those decades had passed. In all that time, my father scarcely spoke with me. His disappointment had stolen his love away. The whispers of his contemporaries about his only child were more than he could bear. I became invisible, a wraith that haunted the shadows of our hilltop world.Soon after Father claimed his peace, my mother followed, consumed by a loss I know only too well. Bryden... Continuing on, no death to relieve my lonely vigil, I waited. With no knowledge of the world around me, I waited. The years whirled by, the world around me growing with the sounds of life, but death is what I crave.Alone, my Bryden, I'm alone.I begged him, called out to him upon his death to haunt me, to drive away all pretense of sanity, but still I wait. My gnarled fingers clench into fists when I shake them at the sky, a curse to the God who took him from me and left me to become this broken old woman.My hair.
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