. setting the box back down on some other boxes stacked everywhere. Sitting down on one, I began to purposely go through that box... digging into my r...cent past. A small book of pictures fell out to one side, and I picked it up. There we were... at the beach... in the park... in the back yard having a barbecue with the kids. Memories cascading past me, not letting me loose. I soon found myself crying.I cried for what I had lost in Becky's passing. I cried for losing Samantha, and I cried for. Then horror of horror, one day as she commences her daily tribute her tongue tip is tantalised by the distinct tang of strawberries. The questions start, the suspicions whirlpool through her enraptured mind, the envy and jealousy permeate to her very core. Surely her goddess is true, would desire no other fruit but hers, wouldn't be tempted away by the beauty consultants or ballerinas or whatever these other fucking women might be? She wouldn't be seduced by exotic kiwi, plain old pear or the. More

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