" I corrected."Larry," he concurred. "I'm Jim. Not James, please; and not Jimmy either, if you don't mind. Is that it?" No. There's a possibility, and...that's all I can say, a possibility that it was somebody named Walter Quiller who was driving the car that hit her, and that it was deliberate. There's a stronger possibility that Walter Quiller was here in the hospital shortly after she'd been brought in, posing as me, trying to see her."That got his serious attention. "And you know this how?"I. "Do it!" Brian said. "We're going up." He pushed forward on his throttle and pulled back on the stick. The aircraft began to climb, streaking into the pink Martian sky, the hillsides and the valleys dwindling quickly below them, the altimeter blurring with altitude it rarely showed."Nothing yet," Matt said, terrified as he watched them pass through a thousand meters and continue upward. Even if they did manage to not get shot down they had just burned up a good portion of their precious fuel. I feel, perhaps It was most convenient for me, to fantasize myself as the horny mothers depicted in those stories, getting fucked by their teenage sons.My first reaction to my lecherous thoughts involving my son was a disgustful repulsion. I was conscience-stricken for days. I was mortified, how could I even envisage myself having sex with my own son, the most forbidden relation between a mother and her son. It was a sin of worst kind and I prayed on numerous wakeful nights to get rid of my. I tried. I made myself go back one night after another. It was just a house, a thing of mortar and wood and glass. There was no such thing as ghosts. I was a rational man, and yet...When I turned the lights off and lay in our bed that as far as I knew had always been ours alone, I felt her presence. I felt that if I suddenly clicked on the lights, I'd catch her lying next to me with that half smile that made me nickname her "Mona" for the first years of our marriage because of her resemblance.
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