“Arthur,” I said, “I never touched the little bitch. What’s the second thing?” “Second,” he said, “stop pacing around with that FUCKIN... CA…” He had stopped, dead in his sentence. “Cane,” he finished softly. I stopped. He stared at my leg. He reached out and grabbed the cane. “Walk toward me,” he commanded. I complied. “Old war wound?” he asked, looking me in the eyes. “Football,” I replied, and told him the story. A smile spread across his face. “Drop your trousers,” he said, gleefully. “What?”. Janet smiled.“Sometimes I like a little light in the house. It gets a little dark with the blinds closed,” Janet explained.“I know that feeling as well,” I replied. “Sometimes, we just need to open the blinds . . .”Janet nodded her head in agreement.“See the world in a different perspective,” I continued,Janet continued to nod her head in agreement.“See others in a different perspective,” I added.Janet continued to nod her head in silent agreement.“Maybe even step out of comfortable zone,” I. More

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