Anyhow, my dad, though fairly well off, was frugal. I was buried in a pine casket in a graveyard in a Negro region of Chicago. Dead street people wo...ld be buried in this poor man's graveyard. I mean corpses that are found in dumpsters. Of course, I wasn't in the casket. No one was - at least, I hope not. I am sure it was an empty casket that was buried. When the casket was in the ground and covered up with dirt a priest sprinkled some pixie dust on the spot then mumbled some words in. She’s showered and changed, looking sexy but casual. She’s a very pretty girl with a pleasant, welcoming smile that really lights up her face.“I used to win a lot of competitions as a junior, I was ranked in the top 3 juniors in England for a while ... I loved it when people watched me play, and when they talked about me ... I loved the old men watching me, talking about my serve and back-hand, but I knew they were just looking at my boobs and my bum...” She laughs. She’s probably right.“I. The door was opened by Sylvia herself who Edna thought to be a well preserved 70 plus. She greeted Ken with a sensuous kiss and Ken introduced Edna. ‘Come on in’ said a smiling Sylvia. ‘Before you start enjoying yourself Edna, can we have a little private chat? Ken knows the ins and outs so to speak and we will join him at the bar later’.Escorting Edna to her office, Sylvia gave her a membership form. ‘Well, I’m sure when Ken told you about our lovely society, did it come as a bit of a. ” He smiled, broad and happy. “Your turn.” I didn’t remember this being part of the deal. So I swallowed hard and said what really was my darkest secret. Only one person knew. “I write erotica.” I whispered it. His eyebrows lifted immediately, but he didn’t say anything straight away. “What do you write about?” Was he genuinely interested or would it be spread about the cast and crew before they even started rehearsing? I ran with it. “I write about a stage manager who almost gets caught in.