More tickles arose from his right knee, and then from his left big toe. It was driving him crazy. “It’s awake.” The voice reinforced the idea th...t he was going crazy. It was both inside his head and somehow coming from outside at the same time. “We should fly.” The second voice was different, and more distinct. It sounded quite feminine, with a musical quality. “No, it’s nice,” a third, deeper, but still feminine voice said. “It’s big. It’s a boy.” “It’s nice,” the deeper voice countered,. She continued to grip my hand when we sat. One hand was holding my own, the other traced over mine with her fingers. She was watching her caress with a smile on her face.She released her grip but not before placing my hand on her thigh, then she reached for our glasses and passed one to me. She raised her glass to me and I followed suit. As we drank I squeezed her leg, she smiled and her free hand reached for the hanging tablecloth, pulling it to cover my hand.I raised an eyebrow at her, now. Once everything was cinched down he grabbed the pommel and put a foot in the stirrup.“Kal! Kal have you left yet?” Perra yelled walking towards the barn.“I’m still here!” he called, sighing he vaulted into the saddle, he really just wanted to be alone right now.Perra rounded the corner and walked into the barn, pausing for a moment as her eyes adjusted from the snow-covered ground to the relative darkness inside, “Thank goodness,” she said walking up to him and Bonn, “Mom said you walked out. Sorry for Phil, too, sorry for all the things that might have been ... but mainly sorry for me. Not what all those helpful books on managing the grieving process would recommend, I'm sure, but that was what I did. Frankly, I wallowed. At least for a while.Then I pulled myself together a bit – I could imagine how a lot of my friends and colleagues would react to seeing me this way and the thought at least sufficed to get me up on my feet. Once vertical, however, I still couldn't really get.