I still had no idea of course how much she'd seen, how much she'd heard, it mattered not. If she asked me anything, I would tell her, the truth."Yes s...e did."Cynthia nodded her head. "I knew she would, she always does," she informed me, turning to face the railing looking out into the darkness as she stood next to me. I turned, likewise looking out taking another drag on my cigarette. "Would you like to?" She now asked without looking at me. "I saw ... saw you looking at her, watching her while. After all, Megan was considerably younger than I! She was perhaps 23, and I was in my early forties, but as I stood there, our ages didn't really seem to matter. There was something else there at work between us; something deep; something that disregarded our individual chronological ages; something---primal, and basic; something deeply, and undeniably, human---which had nothing to do with race.Though neither of us used the word 'sex', or 'fucking', the fact that we were both thinking them was. More

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