She reaches up under her lengha and pulls off her panties. She hands them to me. La Perla black with the lace in the front that would have show off he... well trimmed pussy.“Tell them to put out dinner as soon as it is ready and call Mom to the table…we will go upstairs and you will need your hairbrush”I take a shower and change into my kurto. As I come out of the bathroom, I see Hansa sitting on the bed in our room with her big hairbrush in her hand. Every night she sits in her nightgown. I always felt as if I was I a faint scratch on a clear window, barely visible to the naked eye, only apparent when a certain light at a certain angle illuminates the carved scar. She was the light and I the cut, a bare empty scrape on this world. Without my wife, I felt once again invisible, and as her ashes cooled, I found myself static, neither hot nor cold, neither gaining nor shrinking. I was indifferent to passing seasons or changing fads. Hollow to others, hollow to myself, growing hollow. More

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