Only a few pink, white and red roses bloomed. The paths looped around and joined the central path, which widened with each juncture until it formed a ...ircular area, a round reflecting pool at the center. The pool reflected a large pink marble sculpture, a dancer emerging from the stone as if lifted, with only hands and a little bit of forearms shown of the lifter, the stone itself looking like a raw bolder. Though not detailed, he sensed the dancer had been modeled after Constance.The garden. They are all dead now. But I’ll get to that. This is my story. My life after ‘death,’ my deadly romance with the woman who killed me, the loss of everything I’ve ever known, and the crazy obsession with everything I used to be. Finally, I am saying good-bye. Good-bye to the human in me, the humanity that has now faded away, nothing more that a vague memory. In writing this, anything left of my humanity will have been transferred onto paper. I feel that then, and only then, I can truly live. I. I remembered the street though, like all of a sudden, and I smiled back at him."You live on Holland Circle, right?" I asked him. "Out in Meadow Park?"Huh? Yeah ... I do," he answered slowly, narrowing his eyes while Daddy and Stacy both looked at me."How do you know that?" she asked."Oh, um ... Mom mentioned something about a Gary once," I said. "Just before she left." She did?" Daddy blinked at me and then looked at the man who seemed a bit uncomfortable suddenly."Ah, that must have been after. A soft longing began lower down in my vagina, but I wasn’t going anywhere near there yet. The man in the story got an errection, long and hard. I pictured my own man, a fantasy guy, hardening up from the mere sight of me. Unrealistic, yes. But pleasurable? Of course. One hand still massaging my entire mound, I unzipped my skirt and stood up, letting it fall smoothly down my legs. My simple shirt was next, easy to pull off. I sat back down in only my panties and bra, looked briefly back at.