Pulls a book off the shelf. I see it's entitled, "How to plot your story." Laughing to myself I thought, Plotting—how appropriate."Excuse me, could ... ask, are you a Writer?" No... ," she replied, without looking up, "I just enjoy reading about how it's done." Oh," I said, feeling stupid. She must see right through me, I thought.Then she looked up at me. She was slightly shorter than me—but not by much.Our eyes met. Her blue eyes and my brown ones replaced the books at which we had been looking.. The extra time would have allowed your clothes to dry out enough to wear back as well, but you can go as you are. It has warmed up enough that you shouldn’t be cold.”As I led her out of the cabin, she told me that she had more clothes in her backpack. They had all the clothing they brought with them to the island in their backpacks, and had put them in the Jet Ski’s storage compartment. I told her we would stop and get their things on the way back to the pens as I locked the cabin back up.We. She mopped her eyes and got control of herself."I shouldn't be bothering you with my problems. If you are on this flight you probably have enough problems of your own. It's just that I haven't had anyone to talk to since I got the news that I had lost my only son and his wife. I am so sorry."Katy had been listening to the old lady's tale and now she reached across me and took her hand."You have no need to apologise. Peter's aunt who looked after him is in a coma, and she was also my step mum,. Fading wounds of an earlier life, an unhappy life. Although these physical scars fade some wounds remain open. Even if she seek professional help, it takes time until these wounds have a place in her life and she has regained her self-confidence and faith in the rest of the world.I love to touch her naked body when I see her in the shower but I'm worried about her when I see her scrubbing her body furiously because she thinks she is dirty. She knows that I enjoy when she is lying beside me on.