No, I’m not tired. Is it time for breakfast?”Oh my. Charlotte at the best of times had the mind of a 10-year-old, but sometimes that of a 5-year-o...d. “No, not yet. Why don’t you come down to the TV room with me?”I helped her up, she was eager to do something. Damn, she was wearing white flannel pajamas with a 5-button top. As I helped her up, I noticed only 4 buttons were fastened, presenting a great view of her deep cleavage. “Come on down to the RV room. A few others are still up and would. But her face no longer supplied the required expressions; no humility, no regret – no puppy eyes, no desperate eyebrows.Her face was a waxen mask – and her eyes were dead.He yielded two more steps ­– his bare soles pressing against the cold floor, feeling as numb as his mind. He knew he should be mad, insulted by her cheap apologies, but there was nothing – no feelings at all.Shouldn’t there be feelings?He’d admired this woman, adored her. She’d shaped his youth, even when she was never there –. More

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