He turned and looked back at the mirror, it was nothing like the mirrorin his bedroom, this one hung on the wall. But the image in it, hisreflection, ...as not what he saw in his mirror. Everything seemed to bein the appropriate scale: his feet, his hands. He looked closer at hishands and they were different, the fingers smaller, the nails manicured.He reached back towards the mirror and rubbed his breast and realized hefelt it! Not in his arm where it touched but in his breast? He reachedup with. He said he wouldwear a bright red tie with his grey tweed jacket to help her spot him. Heput them on and then headed out the door.Lysa had been up but not necessarily fully dressed. Her long, light brownhair was gently curled. She already had her eye shadow done with a darkertones of pink and rose. But she had been bouncing around her apartment injust a camisole and cotton pajama shorts. She stripped down to nothing andput on a strapless bra, gently shifting her 36-C's into place. Then put on. More

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