"Not getting much done, are you?" she inquires.Actually, I have accomplished much in my mind. For I have decided to use her as the model for my heroin...."I'm gonna go take a shower. Be back in a bit."I watch as she slips through the doorway and into the little cottage. As I watch, I marvel at her calves, so perfectly sculpted.Soon, I hear the water running, and then, as I finish yet another paragraph it ends. I determine that I have written enough for now and head inside myself.I glance around. Right now though, it appeared to be the antithesis, for it feltundoubtedly like the saddest.I had lost my unborn baby; and maybe my uterus too.I couldn't tell. My vagina hurt and I had a strong gnawing pain fromdeep inside my pelvis.I suppose that intense degree of discomfort was a strong indication Iwas alive.I was surprised I had survived. Meg must have got the clots out in thenick of time and I imagine I'd been stabilized enough to rush to theoperating theatre.There, I'd either had a. More

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