Memories. The present, the future. Even fictional stories. They are killing me. I'm spending nights up, writing things so sad that I sometimes cry, an... then I look out and it's morning, the sun is rising, and I have to go to work. I work like a zombie. I fall asleep in my office, and only notice because the phone rings, someone enters, the computer makes a noise every now and them because I set it to. But I'm writing. All this time, when I'm talking to people, when I'm at one of those endless. I reached behind me. The faint wetness of his pre-cum told me all that I needed to know."Does my beautiful baby brother need some hot loving this morning?"The response was for him to slide his right hand under me and use two fingers to diddle my clit, simply to confirm that I needed him as much as he needed me.The baby brother I speak of is Ric, then just twenty-three, with whom I lived at the time. Me, I'm maryjane, small 'm', barely close to twenty-four. Yes, we were called Irish Twins. I. “How’s everyone?”“Smells great, granny,” Luca said moving towards the stove and stealing a piece of bacon.“Thank you, baby,” the elderly woman smiled.“Let me wrangle up the grandk**s,” Doug said walking out of the room.When Doug returned, the k**s were hanging all over him. Everyone ate - including Doug and Luca again. As the morning wound down, the guests began packing their vehicles to return to their homes.Now, it was just the standard residents in the house. Glenda Branch was in her room. The sun was getting low and caught my eyes, but I could make out a distinctive silhouette leaning against the wall with one knee cocked. It was the man I’d noticed earlier in the day - the genius who bounce walked on small trampolines.He was looking at me inquisitively through the fading light and a haze of billowing smoke.‘You look…how do you say?…Frazzled?’ he offered, bringing a large joint to his lips and drawing heavily on it before exhaling a beautiful plume of grey smoke.I took stock of.