As the others entered we were summoned to sit down as they had something to talk to us about.While they were out they had phoned the home Nan was in, ...o be told she had taken a fall, badly cut her head and been taken to hospital with concussion. They continued to say that they had decided to drive back and see everything was alright and they were going to travel in one car, so we could stay and enjoy the holiday. It was a four hour drive so they would be away until the next day and hopefully be. Mujhe bhi maza aa raha tha .thori der bad mai apna lund pant se nikal kar uske gand me chubhane lage o kuch nahi boli mai thora aur pressure diya to o pet ke bal let gai mai bhi uske uper chadh gya aur lund gand me chubhane laga tabhi mujhe yad aaya uska bap mai turant utar gya aur apna lund under kar so gya.anita phir meri taraf gand karke so gai.maie dekha uska bap abhi bhi nase me tha.maine use ek chadar se dhak liya aur dushra chadar khud lekar odh liya .thori der bad anita ko bhi usi. ”“Porridge this morning?”“That’ll do nicely.” Neither of us mentioned her sneaking into my bed in the night.By lunch-time (tuna rissoles) I knew there would be no productive writing that day. I read through what I’d written thus far, and was quite pleased with it. Made a few corrections. Re-wrote an awkward passage, but no. No spark.“It’s no good,” I sighed.“What’s the problem?”“It happens,” I sighed again, “I’m always erratic when I write. There’s nothing there today.”“Could we sail?”“It’s. His skin becomes smoother, his eyes look brighter, and he looks more alive. He starts to tear up. “Show me,” I tell him. “Please show me.” He gives me his hand and I close my eyes, watching the last seven hundred years play out from his point of view. I watch him fight in wars, say goodbye to people he loved, his years and years of searching for me. His pain, his hurt, and his small slivers of happiness sink into me and pierce me like they pierced him. “I’m sorry,” I whisper when it’s all.