Except that perhaps I would -- I realise that, just as much as I have forgotten my name and how I got where I am, I have no idea what my sexual limits...or preferences are. The thought takes me aback. Perhaps this man is actually my lover -- or even my husband. Perhaps he has every right to do what he is doing, and it is only this strange fugue-like state that I am in that causes me to resent it. Perhaps... His hand strokes my knee, warm through the silk of the stocking, then begins slowly --. Sorry if I freaked you out. I hope you’re okay.” “Thank you, Harold,” she whispered as he exited the café, not loud enough to be heard. She picked up the card, and stared at it in semi-disbelief. Clutching it tightly in the palm of her hand, she grabbed her bag and rushed from the restaurant, faintly smiling as she wandered around, regretting having never asked for directions home. * Belle stepped onto another unknown platform, quiet in the early afternoon, and took a deep breath as she. More

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