His father had been in the Merchant Navy and had brought home all sorts of things from around the world that Richard had been loath to get rid of when...he died. Among those things was a horse-hair fly whisk. It would make a super swishing sound but hardly do more than tickle her buttocks.Richard spent much of Tuesday morning rootling round in the attic. Inevitably he found plenty of digressions: photographs, letters, diaries and even an exercise book with a short story by his mother. He also. I packed my bags and Mom and Dad drove me to her house, about 40 minutes away. Sarah had moved to the area not long ago, after she and her husband, my Mom's brother, had divorced. It had been a few years since I had seen Sarah and I was finding it difficult to remember what she looked like. I was totally unprepared when I saw her. We arrived in mid afternoon and it was nearly 90 and very humid after the storms. Sarah was outside in the yard as we drove up. She was wearing the shortest cut-off. He was a computer expert; no one in China knew more about the internet than he. He knew – KNEW – that everything and anything sent on the internet must be recorded in many computers; each node that a part of the message went through would have it. This IO person was an idiot. He considered discarding the message entirely, but continued decoding. If he had not, the effort would be incomplete, and he was obsessive about completing things.Does this seem preposterous to you? Is it more preposterous. "“I may leave around three.”“I think that you should leave earlier than that, you don’t know how the traffic will be.”“That’s a good point, I may leave earlier then.”“I am going to bed,” I said as I kissed his cheek.“Are we going to fuck?” Graham asked.“No,” I am tired.”We went to bed and, again, he asked me to sleep in the nude.“No, I will never sleep naked.”"Let me see your body," he pleaded.“No, you like me to keep it hidden from you,” I replied, “You told me last night, that it turned you.