Yeah, she thought, Cop-of-The-Year material. Chief of Detectives rank for sure. There was a door at the far end but that hadn’t been opened in a lon... time. The padlock was rusted. The building was an old housing block that had been condemned years ago and no-one knew who the owner was. If it ever had a fire escape that was long gone. The front door was in a similar state to the back door. The bottom two floors’ windows were all barred. Unless... Something bugged her. Carol went to the back. But what I really crave is that sense of oneness that we felt that night, and to a lesser extent, a few other times. But what I finally figured out was that the closeness that I craved was suffocating to her. While I drew tremendous peace and reassurance from that feeling, she was terrified of the loss of self it entailed. That evening, when I came home from work and tried to describe how I'd felt the night before, she claimed that she'd had 'a bit too much wine and smoke.' And I, foolishly,. More

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