Her long hair had come loose from its braid and was tangling about her face, getting in her mouth as she writhed. "Oh God," she moaned, stretching her...neck as I remained statue like. "I beg of you."Then I lowered her gently to the bed by bending my knees, held her at the waist and began a normal, healthy swiving, until I was sure her reluctance and doubt were gone. Her legs slid up under my arms. She twisted and turned on the edge of the bed as I increased the pace steadily to the rate of the. Her lack of memory fills her with silent dread. Not my mind, Dear god not my mind! She tries to compose herself. Ernest, Frank… Letter by letter she continues to analyze the sounds and impressions. What is this? Dear god. Dear Jesus, sweet Jesus. George, Harold… She begins to suspect the answer is beyond her reach. She sends out fingers of desire, need, thought- tries to project them into her past, pull out something stable. The images seep through her fingers like fine sand peppered with. More

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