Don't worry I will.’ I smiled, then thought a while. Was there any hidden meaning in her response? I was useless at this shit! Did she mean that...she'd have a good time, or that she'd fluster a few souls? Texts! Bleeding useless in their brevity. I dismissed the thoughts out of hand.'Getting old and paranoid boy!' I told myself.I went to the kitchen and cracked a bottle of red wine. I chose a Merlot, like I had any idea that I knew what I was doing. In reality, I’d picked it because I. Sadness flows back into her eyes and she returns to the simplicity of her hair. She asks, ‘Is this what it means to be real?’ No answer. More contemplation of her hair. ‘I could take it away. Make you forget him.’ Forget him…. Forget the anger, the screaming pain when he left her… the unadulterated joy when they reunited… the slow realization of bitter anger and unforgiven sins… wounds that cut too deep to ever be healed by him… the horrifying realization of her own faults and sins that. More

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