In the mornings I have to pee into a glass jug which they take away – to test I suppose.They sometimes take blood from me - and they keep giving me ...njections. Every morning. I have no idea what they are for. I hope it's something like vitamins but I don't know what to ask and I don't suppose they would tell me anyway.They feed me well. Where the food at Inward Bound was chosen to help us loose weight; now I'm eating a lot of protein and carbohydrate. There's not much fat in my diet. With all. Guilt washed over her in a tidal wave and she felt ashamed she would scare her son in her startled surprise. “Oh, honey.” She replied as she seated him, this time a little more comfortably, on the chair with her. “You just scared mommy is all.” She smiled reassuringly at him and stroked his hair as she drew his head to her breast. The hug lasted a half-second then she laid back to continue her massage. Of course, it would be cut short until the kids were sleeping but she would sit here for a. We talk about what we’d do if/when we met. She was already planning a visit the U.S. from her native U.K. That was months away though. I had asked her once what she would do if I messaged her I was on a plane to the U.K. She said she’d meet me at the airport.Well, lady luck was on my side. I bought a couple of scratch-off lottery tix and won a hefty sum. I kept it a secret from friends/family/co-workers for now, till everything was finalized and I had the money. I had divided it up to. In my dream, Sicily was always covered in gold. Everything was gold: the golden Baroque cities glistening under the glowing sun of August, and far away, the gently rising mountains of Theocritus directing our gaze to Homer's wine-dark sea. Now when I look back at myself at the age of fifteen, I recall only two pieces of literature that lent my monotonous school life a subtle romantic air: A la recherche du temps perdu by Marcel Proust and the Eclogues by Virgil. For a short time I was so.