The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. ’ ‘Why should I?’ ‘Because I can’t live without you!’ ‘That is your own affair, and—’ Melusine broke off, staring at him, shocked realisation kicking in her gut. ” He replied. But, as he made no answer, he was removed. ” She put her wrists upon his shoulders, feeling him surge with the pride of his own masculinity as she touched him. I’ve never seen her quite so sure of herself.
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