Below the photo, his name then the year he was born, and the year he died. With these words written after.‘Here lies a beloved father. Parted by dea...h until we are reunited. Together as a family again.’“Hey dad, didn’t I tell you he looks like you.” Jennifer cried out. Dropping to her knees, she put her arm out, to touch the tombstone. Putting her head down, she started to cry. Walking over to her, I kneeled down next to her. Embracing her in my arm, as she put her head on my shoulder.“When I. The owners of those very naughty bottoms had their noses pressed against the wall and their hands clasped on top of their heads.Emma was the youngest of the four women at just eighteen-years-old but had succeeded in imposing her disciplinary control over the other three.First, there was Miss Johnson, her fifty-three-year-old headmistress at college, or at least she was when Emma was at college having left a little while ago. Although about to be spanked, she was always referred to by the others. "Thank you," I said, realizing just how smooth this young man could be. Then I asked, matter of factly, as if I wasn't going to die over the bad news, "So, tell me, where's your dad?" Oh, he's home cooking dinner. He sent me to collect you, and to pick up some semolina bread." Paul finished.I looked at Candy for some sort of signal that it was safe to prattle on about Paul's lateness, never mind ours, but she sent me mixed signals.I felt that pissing and moaning about THEIR lateness was a lousy. She looked out into the bitter cold once more, and tensed up as she imagined herself having to traverse an unyielding plain of snow three feet deep, at least. Sure, she’d try to stay on the road, but she didn’t look forward to it. Black ice, for one. Plus, eventually, she’d have to stray off-road; the homes along this road, so far, were all set back far, far from the road. Oh, fuck! she thought. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m going to die out here, I know it! I can’t even see a goddamned.