" Simon." Helen's place, but I guess that's the same. Ellen came there too as a teen. She wanted to study there." Really?" Unh-hunh." Study what?" Arc...itecture." Frank Lloyd Wright?" Exactly. You seem surprised. She's really quite brilliant. Maybe not Angelique's..." That's not what surprised me." Then what?" Frank Lloyd Wright's Simon's minion." Why would he be? It's Ellen's interest." True." But he did have his way with women. And Simon does have elite taste. How much of the unwashed masses. The cloth that binds my wrists to the old metal bed-frame does not hurt. It does not even restrict my movements or hold me firmly in place. Yet, there is no desire to escape or fight. Perhaps it is the dense humidity. Perhaps it is the emptiness inside that numbs the senses you're trying to awaken. Perhaps I just never want to run from you. I belong with you, to you.You sit on the bed, beside me, drinking in my spread form. For a moment, you can't decide to touch, taste or just hold me. So you. More

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