He moves, slowly, as if afraid to startle me, brings his hand to my face and bends over. His lips are soft and sweet. Tender, innocent. His eyes open... frighten, unsure. I can feel butterflies in his stomach as if they are my own.Breaking the kiss I ask: ?Where is everybody???At work.??Where’s your mother???She is visiting with her sister.?I let go of him and start moving away.?No! Please. Wait. She won’t be back before supper. Please ?don’t ??I am looking at him, battlefield in my head. . "Have you been busy with any projects recently Marcia darling?" I askedcasually as we were sipping our coffee leisurely on a Sunday morning.He looked at me rather worried. It took him a bit of time to answer. Ihad the chance to look at him again. In a month he has changed quitedrastically and all the changes happened with no push or any otherinfluence from me. Everything was his own initiative. The 'carteblanche' I gave him a month ago was still standing.He was dressed with his casual girly. More

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