Fat Martha's TV shows, desserts and chaotic attempts to regulate food, and having the hots for ... me! Well thanks for the compliment, Martha. At some...level she knew that as a fat woman of nondescript personality and intelligence, a wimpy loser like me was as high as she should fantasize.I experienced Bill's life full of TV sports, sports pages, and fantasy football. Wendy, the oldest of us: Ouch! Hatred of her husband barely concealed, dating back years in an icy relationship. Negativity was. He’d relied more on his wrestling skill than his knife work, he told Amélie later, but he’d saved one crewman’s life and had tossed at least three of the other crew overboard.Nevertheless, the routine aboard had begun to wear on her.“Are you tired of this life, Amélie?” he answered.“In a word, yes. I miss Father. I miss Grace.”She giggled.“I miss Sandrine, too.” She did not name Antoine, but she missed him as well. They’d left him behind at his request months ago on an island colonized by. I looked at this man, someone I knew but had just met for the first time. “You touched something inside me”. He sat down on the bed and looked at me, standing by the door. I imagined what he must be seeing; a small, skinny girl with a doll face, in a black chiffon dress, standing on black velvet platform boots, hugging a big woollen vest, her hair blonde and frizzy, and everything lit by candle light. I felt strange. A desire was starting to burn inside me, a desire to kiss him. Because I knew. Fortunately, they wore her out and she was docile and content when we went to sleep.Monday, Myron Tanner, our stalker struck again.Our office constantly received packages and heavy envelopes stuffed with thick contracts, legal documents, and such in the mail. The mail for my office was bundled in the company mail room and brought up to the executive suite in large baskets. Sheila and Melanie typically sorted through the daily baskets about ten o’clock in the morning.I was in my office, just.