’ ‘How are you, love?’ ‘Nervous, I hate hospitals… don’t try logic with me, this place is close enough to a fucking hospital. They wouldn�...�t let me bring you in. Not even if I put in writing. When I get out of here, take me home, sex me, feed me a large lunch in bed (and I mean feed me in a non-sexual way), fuck me again and leave me asleep till I wake up on my own. Bye-bye.’ In the background a feminine voice spoke, ‘Miss Roscoe?’ as the connection terminated. Her diagnosis: sensitivity to. His hair was in dreadlocks, and has a very deep voice (a voice you could fall in love). It's like to dream that came true. A dream that I pray for; after our meals we both cruise around the city, Will brought me roses, he took me to see a Broadway show "Cats", Follow by a night out dancing. Few people have recognized him, ask for his autograph, and took pictures. I was just amazed; I couldn't believe I was with this great entertainer that I had admired! People started to look at me like I. More

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