Yawning, I opened my eyes — to find them locked in hazel green eyes gazing back at mine. The collar. It immediately dropped its gaze and blushed as ...f caught red handed. Everything rushed back; my birthday, my bike, the collarmaid. I had let that thing sleep on my bed, all night. It was now kneeling at my bedside, still in its shabby nightie and had presumably been watching me — gazing at my face while it waited for me to wake up. Creepy.As if for the first time, I looked it over, close up. It. My wife tried to teach me how to appreciate the candy. How to recognize the distinct flavors, how to taste the intricate nuances clear to educated palate but lost on my insensitive buds. The fact that I never learned how to appreciate the chocolate didn’t diminish my extreme pleasure at watching my wife delighting herself with one of the exquisite candies. How her pink tongue tasted it first, then her white teeth gave it a few nibbles, a ritual as complex as wine lover’s one. To appreciate the. Before he could secure it, a shower of cans spilled onto his lap. Three tumbled over the edge and hit the pavement."Shit!"One of the cans settled politely on its bottom. The second rolled neatly to a stop on the grassy verge. The third, clearly a maverick, landed on its side, found the slight incline of the driveway and began to roll.Mark debated whether to roll after it, and decided he'd probably lose the other groceries in the process."Come back here, you son of a bitch!"As if it had heard. Her face wasn’t familiar although I knew her husband. Was Samson her husband? I had never paid attention to Samson’s ring finger before and I couldn’t see it from here. Even trying to get a closer look during altar call didn’t help. She wasn’t what I called ‘fine’ but extremely sexy. The way she walked around the offering table…ummm. She wasn’t wearing anything revealing but cut to fit her body. A simple navy dress that skimmed slightly over her hips and stopping mid-calf was so enticing. Her.