Like it was some ancient ritual and had to be performed just right. Telling her it was just a bonfire didn’t help. It was special and she worked her...elf up into a bundle of nerves about it. I didn’t help matters. It was no big deal — throw a match at a bunch of dry wood and let it burn. But she agonised. She watched the weather and made sure she knew which way the wind was likely to blow so she could start it on the sheltered side. She checked her matches and the kerosene tins, and made sure. “You got it, darling. I love you.”I paused only a moment before replying, “I love you, too.” I didn’t. Not yet, a small part of me added. But it felt good to pretend. And I felt happy knowing that he truly meant it. He left the room and found his way to the kitchen, if the sounds of drawers and kitchen doors opening and closing were any indication.I didn’t want to leave the bed, but I knew I had to eventually. My crotch felt like a licked-clean plate, for one thing. The room reeked of my sex,. More

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