The rose then is gone…and Shelli sighs in frustration, wanting once again to feel, if even for a moment…she whispers, ‘…please…’ There is...silence, a suspension of time that seems to draw on into eternity. Then comes the voice of shadow again, comforting in its familiarity, exciting in its strangeness. ‘I fear this poor rose has now wilted in despair, having not only seen but tasted your sweetness. Thus, I offer in its place, my own kiss…knowing despair will wilt me not, rather will desire. He pulled two tea bags from anothercabinet and put them in the mugs with some water. He put them into themicrowave and set it for a minute.Jeremy had just finished getting an opinion of the place when Henry set down the two mugs on the table in front of them."I don't get many visitors," Henry said, "the place needs picking up. Ido most of my cleanup on Saturday and Sunday." He sat down at thedining chair next to Jeremy."The place is nice and cozy. Plus I can tell you're not a slob,". More

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