Fishing magazines covered the desk. An old green rotary telephone. Baseball caps and old cigar boxes filled with rusty fishing lures. Above the desk h...ng a calendar with large breasted women posing in bikinis, and Dale scribbled notes across the days of the month as a way to plan future fishing trips. He tracked moon phases and read the Farmer's Almanac to better understand when the fish would bite. This desk was Dale's man cave, tucked in the darkened reaches of his garage out of sight of the. " I said frostily, reaching for my purse and struggling to get up. n."Let me ask you something. This isn't really you, is it?" She asked, voice froze me me once again.I paused, turned away from her gaze, facing the door."What do you mea-." I choked, as she continued."All this. All dolled up in a Kors Michael Kors dress, expensive designer Heels and trendy matching jacket. It's not the real Jennifer Corbitt, is it now? " She asked unflinchingly.I should have known she'd see through me. Part of. We made suggestions here and there. The wives wanting somewhere private but with all the facilities, sauna’s, massage, pedicures and manicures. Holly just sat back like me, letting everyone else blow off steam. We both smiled, that was our style, let the others do all the hard work then throw in the answer. ‘Well?’ Naomi said grinning, knowing how we shared the family trait, Holly beamed ‘Menorca,’ ‘Really?’ ‘Uh Huh!’ ‘Holly, where did that come from?’ ‘Mum and I had a brilliant holiday there. Some of those friends have gone to be replaced by others.It was a long time ago when I first met a friend that called themselves human, I now call them people, because that’s what they call themselves. At first they came on horseback, put up their tents, lived with me for a while and then left me alone, often for long periods of time.These friends eventually visited me more and more. I liked them, at first, even though they used to burn small patches of the grass that covered me. Over time, the.