I didn't know you were... uh... busy."Still muttering apologies, she turned and headed for the door. Thinking myself safe, I exhaled with relief and s...arted climbing to my feet. Then, almost at the door, Connie whirled around to face me again. "I just remembered what it was I wanted to tell you!" she exclaimed so loud it startled me.I reacted by letting go of the sheet. Both of us watched as it billowed to the floor; me standing there in the buff with my boner and balls bared for the whole. Conversation was always bright, cheerful and interesting. She would tell me of her work, without mentioning clients names of course, and I would discuss the plot lines I was developing in my latest story, and listen carefully to her observations. Some of my stories had been published on the internet on free sites, and Ally brought up the topic of my being paid. ‘I don’t write to be paid. I enjoy the writing and the reward I get is the pleasure I can hopefully give to other’s by reading them.’ . Linda’s eyes are wet at the end of her tale, and I see that she is very troubled. There are times when one speaks of a thing less to tell the person to whom one talks than to make ease in the mind. I think this may be such a time for Linda, I think she did not believe I would understand, though I do, but needed to speak because what took place was heavy in her.Her feeling is easily understood. The man for whom she spoke did evil, and yet he escaped all punishment because of her words and was. The end of my career as a triathlete could have gone better I guess. The knee was better, but the prospects of getting back into the national team, and achieving funding were a lot less hopeful. I had considered focussing on one element of the sport aside from running which the knee put paid to. Cycling, swimming maybe. But I was thirty three, recovering from injury, and despite my experience, I would never be as fit as I had been and less competitive that the twenty somethings who were looking.