Those nearest the front stretched out their arms, one on top of the other, all of them trying to reach the wayward pair, most especially the Light-Eye... One. Sala reached an anxious hand to the man beside her, needing the security of his touch, and found his moist from apprehension as well. She knew, they both knew, their reappearance would cause an uproar, but neither had been quite prepared for an almost frenzied reaction. A loud, shrill whistle sliced through the air, silencing the shouting. He was my husband’s only friend. Donald was also head of a firm of lawyers whose clientele included everyone of note for miles around, high or low, good or bad. He is a very intelligent, kind man who always found time for a smile or appreciative word. (In my last story it was he who complimented me on the meal when others just accepted it. I seem to recall thinking he could have a blow job anytime. He hasn’t had one yet but who knows.) Jane is perhaps my closest friend, but not the recipient of. ”I said, “I’m hungry. Would you like some lunch?”“Please. Breakfast was a while ago and hospital food isn’t that good. You’re a great cook.” She smiled.“I’m going to cheat. I have a store-bought, pre-mixed salad. It’s good and it’s easy.”She smiled. I pulled the salad out of the fridge and got a big bowl for mixing and a regular sized bowl for each of us. I mixed the salad and then served it into the bowls for us to eat. I bowed and prayed silently. I ate though was behind her. Once finished, I. But she was such a pain in the ass, always wanting to talk about “us” and “our future”, and all that shit. She couldn’t ever just shut up. She was the one chick I could have dumped, if she hadn’t dumped me first. Except she was the only chick that ever called me on my bullshit, and she was spot on every time. I’ve always preferred being the dumpee. I don’t like confrontations, with tears and all that shit. I much prefer being yelled at and told what an asshole I am, then seeing the back side of.
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