Finally the doctor appeared. I wondered where he had been because we had dressed and scrubbed up at the same time. The thought did run through my mind...that with everything else that was going on in this crazy operating room, he had probably been reading an instruction manual on how to perform the operation! Naa, surely not!One of the nurses grabbed a bucket of red barn stain and proceeded to paint a bulls-eye on Sharon's belly. I guess this was so the good doctor had something to aim at.. They caught on other threads from the bobbin beneath. Stitches formed. Some so tight that they puckered the fabric. Others too loose to hold the pieces together. And some just perfect. Perfect for as long as they lasted anyway. She found the tiny silk rose bud that she had bought just for this dress. She brought it to her nose. But of course there was no smell. It was silk. Not the sweet pale pink buds that opened so briefly each spring. There was no life in this flower. Not even for the. Her fingers ventured on over her hugely swollen pussy lips; “Fuck, this has been really hammered”. The intolerable agony was not being able to remember; “My bag, perhaps there is something in there”. It was just inside the door where she had come in and her keys were still in the outside lock. Opening the bag produced another huge shock; “Fuck me, where did all this money come from”? It was filled in an untidy mess with notes of all denominations; and judging by the bags weight lots of coins.. I put my arm around behind her so she can lean into my side. She wriggles and cuddles into my side without interrupting her reading.My little girl sighs and turns a page. As she reads she hums softly and the golden sound of her voice wraps around me like a blanket.I run my hand once down my little girl's side and then rest it casually on her hip. My fingers gently pat and stroke the top of her leg.Benito is still talking."Perhaps we can get back to telling me about this bench – this dark green.