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The heels of her pumps made little indentations on the rug.Clouds gathered in the East, darkening the room further. He stepped in and closed the door....The remaining light caught the brass of the buttons. Tiny suns against a deep blue horizon."Do you have time for dinner?" he asked.She sighed."I don't think that would be appropriate at this juncture." I understand." A bare acceptance.He crossed the room to her desk. To her."Sasha." His throat ached and her name was thick in his mouth.His fingers. O.B. Was and is an autocrat: a peacenik in public but a terror at home, an emotional – and, in my case, occasionally physical abuser. He was also a doctor, and got terrific mileage out of his “respect for human life” while seeming to try doing his worst to ruin my mom’s and mine.In short, it was a perfect setup to create a candidate for the Marines (known only half-jokingly as Uncle Sam’s Mistreated Children). We won’t get into the psychology of all that. I’m not sure I understand it myself,. Being with you is enough, you know that.’ That made Lena cry a little bit and she came and cuddled me. ‘Come on you two, let’s get ready for bed. I need to talk to you both seriously for a while so take the drinks upstairs.’ That quietened them both down so I refilled the glasses and followed them both upstairs undressed and climbed into bed with them. ‘Now,’ I said, ‘I want to talk about what happens when we get back to England. Jo, you know Guy’s been very worried about that don’t you?’ She. After stirring around a bit I found myself wide awake. I could hear my dad cough down the hall. The walls of our home were very thin and closing the door didn't accomplish much more than shutting a curtain. I could hear my Dad laughing, a lighter sparking off, more coughs etc. Often I would hear him get into the cabinet that the TV sat on. This always intrigued me because normally the cabinet was locked. I could hear him crack a beer, more lighters... More coughs... Heard him make his way to.
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