”“I know, the answer is still no.” she replied.“Gotcha.” I accepted defeat. “Well, for the record, thank you for having this conversation ...ith me.”She shrugged. “We’re still housemates. I’m under no obligation to forgive you, but we both know I’m probably too forgiving for my own good anyways.” I nodded in agreement. “Just please, please, if you have a moral bone left in you, don’t ever do what you did to me ever again.”“If my word means anything to you, I promise.” I nodded.“Thanks.” she stood. Making it appear more like acting than spontaneous. Which took something away from it. Of course I enjoyed it, but it left me thinking of the Carole King song. Is that all there is?”I felt like I might be the clown she had conjured up. Seriously I felt like I had been used first for information, and then as her breathing vibrator. Yes it was a shared experience, but I still felt cheap and used. I laughed at that thought. Men don’t mind being used, I reminded myself.Of course the married Eve. “Wonderful, pick a figure from this time and write from their perspective of the events of the revolution. Who will you pick Lara?” I turned my head away from him and crossed my arms over my chest to show my disinterest. “Oh come now Lara, this would be a fun project to do. You get to write about a person and their point of view. It’s pretty simple. It’s like writing a diary. I’m sure you have a diary.” Feigning not to hear him, I open my folder, grabbing a pen I start to doodle on a crisp. “Wendy,” he began. This was it! He called me Wendy! “When you came to the door at lunch time, I thought that you reminded me of someone. I couldn’t believe my eyes. But now you’re properly dressed, I can see who that was. It’s almost uncanny, and I can hardly bring myself to tell you.” “Oh, Bill,” I responded. “Please tell me – if it’s a happy memory.” “Dear Wendy….dearest Wendy. Just a few months back I lost my wife. It was sudden and a terrible shock. But it’s just as if I were back with her.