Opening the door he listened for the footsteps coming up the carpeted stairs, but oddly, he swore there was more than just Ernie's steps he was hearin...! A second or two later he was proven right, as Ernie and a young man of perhaps twenty or so turned up the last flight to Martin's apartment. Martin looked at the young visitor and asked Ernie, "Who's your friend, or is it a secret!?!" Before he answered, Ernie gave Martin’s crotch a squeeze and replied, "I found him down at the bus station. He probably saw it in mine, too.I stood up and brushed the thought aside. "I'm fine, thanks. This is nothing." I stood up and went to the living room. Sat on the sofa and picked up a box, opened it, just to diffuse the "heat" between us. The box had some of my old books and pictures. The next thing I knew, we were both looking at old pictures and sharing stories about my c***dhood.We were seated next to each other as we talked and laughed. His arm was around me and we were so relaxed and comfy. "We said our goodbyes and I went home, my dreams about Vicky dashed, but still I had copies of her pictures on my computer. I had scanned all the pictures, using the original negatives, before I gave them back to Tasha.A few months later, my job hunting was not going well, when Tasha popped in to visit Mum and Dad."Oh I'm glad you're here brother," she said, "I want to ask you a favour." Oh yes," I said."Yes could you flat sit for a couple of weeks?" she asked, I'm going away on holiday with a. "Always the perfectionist!" Michele mused, taking genuine pleasure working with him as always. Time was rumors used to buzz that the two of them were more than just 'professionally' connected. Unfortunately, it simply wasn't true. Much as she respected the man, they were too similar to ever 'get along' in that fashion! Musing over the past and its enviable regrets, Michele raised a just calibrated camera to her eye. The slight melancholy, which had settled departing the second Michele, gazed.
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How you wrecked your brother’s bike by putting it in a ditch. You won’t do that with my car, will you?”“Of course not. I was twelve. I have mu
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