Peter stared disconsolately at the diminishing bulge. If Abigail didn’t come back, he feared that his bollocks might swell up and explode. ~~~~~~For...unately, the next morning Abigail was back with her cloths, water and ointment, although she still looked cross. Wordlessly, she changed his dressings, but inside she was trying not to smile at how miserable Peter looked.At last he could hold it in no longer.“I’m sorry, Sister Abigail,” he blurted out. “I know I shouldn’t have used those words. I. This left me feeling unhealthy and my sleeping places were cold and uncomfortable surfaces. I didn’t cohabitate or relate to anyone, homeless or not. I was entirely self sufficient, I was free to pursue any inclining I could dream up. But as this became my lifestyle I became increasingly depressed. ‘When I found this archaic and damaged book, I was intrigued. I felt I knew of all the books in the library. This one was wedged in between the shelving and bore no library tags or markings. I took. More

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