Most of all I tried to appear sane while she contemplated the value of a butterfly net at that moment. “It’s not what you think, flogging can...be very sensual,” I said in a dignified voice, picking my words carefully in this minefield I’d led us both into. I squirmed a little in my seat, my bruised arse singing out a happy song of cherished pain. Fine lines do not exist for those who choose to see in black and white; Sally dealt in rainbows, so I determined not to abandon ship. . Amidst my loneliness, I turned to my old friend Max who owned a small diner that he'd built from nothing. He was a happy man despite losing his wife in a car accident. I had frequented his cafe for years for conversation and the greasy gut bombs that my wife never allowed me to eat; sneaking them home to devour during football games while she was away. Eventually I sold the house full of memories at a loss, and moved into an apartment in town to await my own demise.One particular rainy. More

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