It is sheer hell yet as close to heaven as I could possibly come. Suddenly the speakerphone kicks in, the voice of Robyn's previously silent companion...filling the still office air. “Mmmmmm, you dirty little slut!” Rings out the voice, it sounds like a Cornish accented man. “Lick your fingers, Robyn!” Continues her lover, the male caller. “Then rub your fingertip between your legs and imagine it's my tongue eating your juicy cunt.”“Mmmmmmmmmmm!” She murmurs. “Yes Sir!”All I hear is an. Christ you have had a weekend of it. Forget the week, take a bloody fortnight. And that’s not from your holiday allowance. Please accept my condolences on your loss. How’s your mother taking it?’ ‘Not good I’m afraid, she had a stroke shortly after father died. The stress of it all I suppose.’ ‘God Man. Get the bloody hell out of here, this is the last place you need to be today. God with the load you’ve been under, and I’m surprised you haven’t had a dammed breakdown yourself. Now Go! Go get. Getting up I stepped over to a small bed Sheila had set up for me. Collapsing onto it I groaned as I felt my muscles protested, and then almost sigh as they got the blood they needed.“Thank you Doctor Gance. I can protect you from almost all dangers; though I am afraid that you are your worst enemy. You have to start consuming more for energy, losing consciousness defeats the whole purpose of you doing all that you can.” Sheila told me. Suddenly I felt like a small child whose mother was. He believes in equality; and for this men envy him, and women want him.Peter's father was killed in a car accident when Peter was very young; Peter was left with his mother and his two sisters. Menstrual cycles were no secret to him, but there still seemed a mystery, something left to be experienced.Peter passed the old church and neared the traffic signal that served as a divider between the urban area of the city and his older, but well kept neighbourhood of middle-aged middle-class families.