It was her fault it was there. She could just deal with it.He stood, almost belligerently, but didn't look at her face to see where her eyes were look...ng. He fairly stalked off toward his bathroom, assuming she would follow.He went straight to the medicine cabinet and opened it to look for the flat, round tin that had the picture of the badger on the lid, holding out a little pot of gold, or golden honey, or maybe golden Badger Butter. The words "Sore Muscle Rub" appeared below it. He palmed it. Replacing his hat he asks, "Do you know how fast you were going ma'am?" I smile sweetly at him, "Two things. Please don't call me ma'am, I'm not nearly old enough for that. Secondly I was going somewhere around 100". He took off his sunglasses revealing ocean blue eyes. He raises an eyebrow at me and says, "so miss you were going around 100 miles per hour in a 70?". I defiantly tilted my chin up, said yes and shot him this sexy smile. He smirked and asked for my license and registration. He. She reluctantly gets to her feet, lipstick all smudged and a tear running down her cheek. "You should have done as you were told," I say. "You've been naughty and now you need to be punished."I tell her to turn round and lean over the kitchen worktop. I reach round unbutton her jeans and pull them straight to her ankles, knickers too. They're soaking wet, Christ, I can smell how fucking wet she is.There she is in front of me, jeans and knickers to her ankles, exposed and shaking. smack I've. The personal life deeply lived always expands into truths beyond itself.What I cannot love, I overlook. Is that real friendship?The human father has to be confronted and recognized as human, as man who created a c***d and then, by his absence, left the c***d fatherless and then Godless.The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery.There are many ways to be free. One of them is to transcend reality by imagination, as I try to do.The dream.