The child he was dreaming about would never be; no raising, no first word, no presents, no holding, no walking, no school, no pride. It had died, been...killed, before it even had the chance to have a thought. Because of an accident. It made him sick.But he still had her. She still loved him. She was still there.The timing of this child would have been inconvenient, and that was the truth. It wouldn’t have mattered; they would have loved it and raised it and done it together anyway. But it would. Her hair was about the same length and texture as mine, so it came off quite easily with the razor. I just kind of turned my mind off and pretended I was shaving you, but I could hear her moaning a little as I pulled on her labia to get at the hair. When I was finished shaving, I knew that it was time, so I wiped the soap off of her, and just closed my eyes and dove in."I pretended that we were in the toy shop and that I was eating Clara, with you standing right beside me. That way it didn't. More

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