Without missing a beat, she said she would love to, but not to be going around work telling people of my idea, as she was married.In short, I told her... I would be on the platform Monday lunchtime getting the train into the city-centre. To confirm this, I would send a text ten minutes before.So when Monday rolled around I went into work and got on with my morning with no mention of what was planned. She looked very busy and maybe had gone off the idea.That worry was short-lived because, within. Just too many. Valentine's Day is always tomorrow.I hear the scream. High pitched but cut off. Fuck the self pity. I start to jog towards the source of the sound.There are three of them. One is kneeling near her head, holding a knife to her throat. He's wrapped some sort of gold cord around her neck. It seems redundant, though it glows in the darkness. The second is using his knife to cut away her dress, exposing her legs and belly. The third is standing to the side, holding a young blond boy-a. " Once started, this elaborate confession simply erupted from deep within myself and just poured out of me. She was noticeably stunned and confused by my confession, but, seemed to both understand and take pity on me. I am guessing because she is a mother and has an intrinsic ability to empathize with her daughters' problems and troubles and was able to charitably extend those feelings to my plight. Then she tried to absorb some of the blame, "I really think that I have been, sort of,. She stood about 5' 9". All this I discovered later that day when she put on her bikini and came down to the beach. Best of all, she was on her own. We all warned her that because of her fair skin, she should stay out of the sun between the hours of 11:00 and 3:00. We all went for a swim in the sea and the waves were shifting her back and forth as if she weighed nothing. She made her way over to me since I had my feet firmly planted in the sandy bottom and glued herself to my side like a.