And as we talk, I can see her casually brush the hair from her forehead. She smiles when she talks. Most of the time, when she talked, I only pick...up a word or two. I am much too busy trying to picture her. Her hand would drop slowly, lightly touching her breasts over her t-shirt. She would let out a slight gasp. Just enough that I would hear it…tease me, make me wonder whether it was my imagination or not. She would pat her tummy before she would slowly slide her hand under her T, . Wasn’t that the important thing? Lately, Sanna had begun focusing a great deal of attention on what she perceived were Solace’s flaws. I think I handled this fairly well, she thought but did not voice. Bizarrey turned around a few times on Solace’s lap and plopped down, a signal that she was in for a prolonged stretch of petting. Solace began to stroke the length of the feline with one hand as she yanked up the end of her t-shirt to wipe her eyes, stopping short of blowing her nose. She might. More

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