Don't think for 1 goddamn newyorkminnit they aren't aware of all the goings on; from the beginning through the rough spots to the final lap and finish... line. You know, with enough planning and surveillance they could actually take you out. But it's better in the long run for something to happen to you as a result of crimes against the state. The unseen hand is always there to caress you like a beloved pet, or cave your face in. That's some scary shit. Which makes me wonder, did the neighbor's. "Mr. Phelps is middle-aged. He's a rather distinguished-looking man." There was a lengthy pause. "Actually, Sam," the hotel manager said, "I guess Phelps kind of meets the description. I think he might have been a guest here when... I'm sorry, Sam, it never occurred to me when you..." Is his boat still here?" I don't know." Let me guess. 'Third one in on the left off the near platform... Right?"Phelps' boat was, indeed, still there, but there was so sign of its owner. Returning to the main. “There is a public loo around 100 yards up the beach on the grass verge at the top!” I suggested as I pointed in the direction with my arm. “Oh great!” She smiled as she stood and I first noticed her in all her glory, her long toned legs leading up to her perfect shaped bum and then the glorious big round breasts hanging down aching to be licked and sucked, well in my mind anyway!” “Can you give me a hand, do you think?” She said and I immediately grabbed her bag. “Sure!” I said as we. He saw it in my eyes. "What are you thinking?" he asked me. I looked down and then back to him. "I dunno. I just want to cut." No," he said sternly. "I know, I know.." "I mean it, Odd." I know..." I said meekly. My right hand was rubbing my left forearm through my hoodie. He grabbed my hand softly, moving it away, looking me straight in the eyes. "Show me," he whispered. "Show you what?" I said confused. "Show me your scars."My heart stopped. I was not one to flaunt my scars. I tried to keep.