" I continued attacking my delicious ice cream.Anita propped her elbows on the table and her eyes wandered while she thought about something, and she ...ipped her coffee and said, looking down at her cup, softly, "So you're the type who writes poems."That sounded a little ominous. I thought: Congratulations, idiot, you just blew her away. She hates guys who write poems.She murmured into her coffee cup. "Well... that's so nice. A poem that made her cry." Not ponderous, anxious stuff, you. For the next five minutes westruggled to keep them at bay but held out until 5 minutes before thebreak when disaster struck and we conceded a penalty and a two-nil lead.It was going to take some effort to lift the girls at half time I thoughtbut then they lifted themselves. Our first well worked move of the matchand Kirsty scored making it 1-2 at the break,Graham by this time had deserted his seat and was only a yard or sobehind us.Our half time chat went well I could still see the belief and. " shechanted in a whisper to herself. "Nothing! Just calm down... you'reacting like a fool." But the fear wouldn't leave her. The certainty that she was racing atbreak neck speed to the end of her life would not go. Oddly, she found she was not afraid for her self. The idea of her deathheld little concern for her. If she were to die, her faith told herthat she had done the best she could as a person. That she was who andwhere God had intended her to be. She would go on, in one form. Nice name. The flight time was 12 hours, and in order to be reasonably awake when we landed, I took a relaxant pill after the first meal. It was just a sleepy making antihistamine, and after half an hour I could feel it starting to work. I opened my eyes to find Emily beside me. Somehow she had made space beside my seat, and put the seat back to form the bed that all business class seats now make. She kissed me, and my mind was drawn into her mouth, lips, tongue, sucking on mine as her hands.