One of the waitresses is greeting the newcomer.“It’s OK,” says a familiar woman’s voice. “I’m meeting friends.”I know that voice. The wa...tress stands to one side. I see the woman. It’s Tracy!She is absolutely the last person I’m expecting to see. I’m seized by conflicting sensations. There’s astonishment: what on earth is she doing here? There’s delight, pleasure at seeing her, seeing her free. But, there’s a sense of foreboding, too, as though her arrival means trouble in some way.Gaspazha. " Just one night while Shayna was doing somethingelse, I went into her bedroom, stuffed the pair of panties in my pocket,and came back out before she knew the difference. I was on edge thewhole rest of the night. Left early, told her I was feeling nauseous.It was weird being in her apartment without the voice.I got over that, too. The voice left her apartment, but it startedagain soon enough. This time, it was in *my* apartment. "Put me on."Same voice. Weak, but not as weak as the very. In five minutes I entered the bedroom and there was my wife, reclining on the coverlet, waiting for me, wrapped in her soft and alluring negligée. She was beautiful. The years colored her hair with silver, her face acquired a few wrinkles and her breasts showed the signs of three pregnancies, but her eyes never lost that special sparkle I loved, her mouth was always ready to smile and kiss and her skin marked here and there with age spots, had the downy feeling of youth. After we kissed, she. And I wasn't at home when he did and mom wasn't either, and when I came home he was sitting on the steps in front of the door even though it was raining and when I saw him there I stopped, maybe twenty feet away and just stared at him and he was smoking a cigarette, trying to cover it from the rain with his left hand, but when he saw me he put it out under his shoe and then he stood up and walked towards me and I wanted to run away but I didn't and instead when he was close to me and he opened.