I think we could make this work."I said very slowly, "You and me or the story idea?"She looked at me slowly and said in a low voice, "Both." I almost ...ainted again!I felt like Snoopy in the comic strip and wanted to dance around with joy. I said, "That is promising. Creative writing is not really my strong suit."As to the other, I would like to know you better, Karen. Perhaps if we tried some more kissing, I could get used to that much pleasure to the point that it would only make me weak in. A young woman came out of a tent near to where the slaves were tethered. She was tall and fair, barefoot and scantily clad. She carried a beaker full of water for the bearded Man. He took the beaker and drank from it. Francine wondered if she might be getting to drink soon herself. The sun was getting higher in the purple sky by the minute and her distress more acute with every second. The slave girl took the pitcher back inside the tent."'Tis thirsty work, whipping the newly arrived slaves.". More

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