He felt empty. Numbly he helped his mother carry buckets of water from the well to the big tub on the back porch. He stripped off his dirty clothes an... washed himself was a bar of yellow soap and a scrub brush. The cool water in the sun-warmed tub was all that he thought about for a while. The soap stung his hands, and he examined the wounds he had gouged in his own palms and on his elbow. Then he thought about the men moving up that smoking hill toward the rifles in Early's line and wondered. Calm down. Eagerly, I clicked on her name and the Facebook panel appeared. Subject: Picture change Well, yes, picture is a bit better. Not so scary now! As for being old and ugly, it doesn’t really matter what the subject looks like. If they are a good person that’s what really counts. I’ve always thought that men look better than women as they age. Are you still planning to retire to the coast when the time comes. Or has that ideal changed over the years? Nice to ‘talk’ again, Gaynor. I read. The sister then intervened, pulling the other girl away from me and saying, "It's admirable that you wish to advance to the next lesson already, young lady, but you had no permission or instruction to do that. For your presumption you will be punished for you must learn that it is not your place to assume anything. Bend over and clasp your ankles." Both of us realised that she was going to be smacked... but it wasn't until the sister told me to give her six with the palm of my hand that we. Wren sat on the floor in front of my stereo, looking at my music collection. “For somebody with no soul, you sure have a nice system.” She giggled. “And I like your taste in music.” “Thanks.” I said. “I just like what I like, sometimes I don’t even know why.” Wren put on an album. “This one looks like it’s seen some use.” She observed. Oh Shit! She’d picked the one album that always got to me. I usually played it when I was lonely or sad. It was guaranteed to make me cry, and today was no.