They finished their meal and were lingering over espressos. The food and wine had been superb, but they had had enough. Gianni wanted to take Frances home and feed other appetites. He gave her a look that said, “Let’s get out of here” and she nodded. He settled the bill with Marco and left Frances to chat with him for a moment while he went to the washroom. He listened to their conversation as he returned. Gianni bid his friend good night and Marco responded giving him a manly hug and kissing Frances’ hand. The drive to her apartment was not a long one. It was a beautiful evening and they went by way of the park and the mountain that are part of the centre of Montreal, seeing the city laid before them under the dark sky sprinkled liberally with stars. Frances’ high rise apartment was lit by the full moon shining through the floor to ceiling windows so they needed no further light. Gianni embraced her and kissed her, first gently and then more deeply. “Francesca mia, did you have. The tree-head swayed violently as if in a storm. Very sharp pain it was. I tried to wriggle out, but his arm-prick-lock was solid. “Vidungappaa enne vitrungappaa (leave me, dad, please let me go),” I begged him in tears, but the bastard thief was not in a mood to heed. “Inthaa avvalavuthaan, ippo aayidum (that’s all, it’ll be over now)” was his answer. Mercilessly, he started moving his monster in and out. I had no other choice than crying silently.A few minutes after I felt better, but then the monster spewed lava in my depth. He unlocked his grip and lowered my legs. His big thing slipped out. I got up on my shaking legs. Then I noticed it: a large wet red spot on the whitish towel. My virginal blood. Allowing me to take rest, my father drove out the flock for afternoon grazing. The pain was subsided soon and I felt somewhat relieved. Whatever happened was a dream, I thought, or nightmare? In the twilight, my father returned with the flock and I followed him homeward.For the next.
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