We drive, patrolling the same length of road over and again, James fiddling endlessly with his equipment, trying to find some trace of the signal, but without success.
At length, we pull up by the front of a small diner. Nearer the City, such a place would be open twenty-four-seven, but here, in this lonely spot, it lies closed, the windows dark.
Michael’s breathing is heavy, and even in the dim light, I can see his whitened knuckles as he grips at the steering wheel, staring up and out.
James watches him for a moment….
His closest friend….
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his voice soft.
Michael’s reply is a wounded snarl. “What do you imagine?”
“Well of course, Charlotte. Something specific?”
Am I in the way here?
They want to talk...
…. Not that I can go anywhere...
Just stay quiet....
Try to give them some privacy...
Michael sucks in breath. “I was thinking about that noise she makes. You know the one, when she’s good and aroused, getting close to coming, sort of a cross between a moan and a wail…”
His words stab at me with an unsettling familiarity….
Elizabeth....
breathy silence of hers when I'm building her
Her eyes on me....
Her beautiful submission....
still. “Yeah.… It’s
eyes in the rear-view mirror. Then,
his keyboard, bringing up another
*****
Seven Years Ago
canter into the yard, assorted pairs of
faded overalls, touches up blistered paint on the sheds, giving her a wave as
Some girl called Carol must have thought the same, judging by the
as handsome does, and his good looks are spoiled by his slit-eyed scowl as, seeing Jenny, he turns
different from the first time she mounted Maggie. Sitting straight, her spine is a smooth curve from shoulder to hip. Her thighs move rhythmically in
as she dismounts. “You're becoming a
girl grins, bright
know,” says the woman, “Maggie here was fine for you when you first started. She’s a good
Mrs Collier's eyes follow her to where a silver-grey stallion struts around the ring like moonlight on hooves. “No, not Dancer. He's a challenge for even the best.” Jenny’s face falls, but Mrs Collier continues, “No, in fact, we were thinking of buying another mare for breeding. We thought you might like to come with
widens. “I can choose my own
here and we have to be practical. But if we narrow it down to two or
“Oh, yes!”
*****
do you think, Jenny?” Mrs Collier’s voice is bland, but her eyes narrow as
been presented to look her best. Jenny’s head tilts as she zeros in on some feature. “Do you think she’s walking as she should? She looks to me as
swings around. “Riley, what are you trying to foist on me? I thought
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