Compelled by honesty, tinged with melancholy, a compulsion for the truth took control. Lousy with restlessness, my soul burnished, I needed peace.I n...eded to get away - far, far, away. Coming to heel, I listened to my mistress - wanderlust.-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-My goal spurred me on, a seldom-referenced naturist beach, rarely attended, difficult to reach. Situated on a small Greek island, its appeal seized me whole. Its remoteness required a hike of several miles via an inhospitable route. . God let it be dead. ‘Give us thus our daily bread.’ He peeked at it again, his fingers sliding against the beads of his rosary, clicking softly with each tug. The blood from its mother’s womb had made the tiny body seem a mottled pink, but now that it was washed, wrapped in fine linen, its skin was a sickly white, streaked with dark blue veins. Its eyes fluttered open, staring straight at the priest, who gasped in horror at the bright red orbs that sank into his soul. ‘F-forgive us our. "No, no, I wasn't," replied Michael, not very convincingly."Do you like having your bottom whipped, Michael?" asked Lorna, who now certainly had a strange look in her eyes."No, no, I have never.." replied Michael, who had suddenly become tongue-tied."But you would like to?" said Lorna, more as a statement than a question.Right at this moment, Michael would love to be bending over to take a thrashing from this attractive mature woman, but how could he tell her that?His silence was all that Lorna. The piano, as grand as it probably was, was only the instrument. I knew this music was borne in the heart and soul of the artiste at the keyboard. My first instinct was to head directly to the living room to meet this person, but my host had different plans for me. My name is John and I like to think of myself as a musician. I play at playing guitar. I wish I could say I was of the same caliber as Eric Clapton or Neil Young, but I can only say that I play a pretty decent rhythm guitar. I can.