He was 72 and widowed, he lived alone in a little one-bedroom bungalow and because of his age and the usual aches and pains he found it hard to do the...odd jobs around the house. He was honest, he told me he couldn’t afford to pay me much but hoped that out of the kindness of my heart that I would help the old soldier out, reading between the lines I surmised that he was lonely and also wanted the company, I respected him for his honesty and openness.I sent him a reply thanking him and would. "Do you want a juice box?" I asked pulling one out."Sure buddy," he sipped away. "Dad, I'm going on the swings, okay?" he pushed the blue-framed eyeglasses he wore back up onto the bridge of his nose."Of course it's okay, but where's your new friend?" He didn't wanna swing."He ran off to the swings, which were in clear view, about 50 feet from where I was sitting. He loved the swings and climbed on, quickly pumping himself to a nice arc. I continued to read my book, but looked up a couple of. That's when Ifelt it. Felt it hit my chin. It landed with a whomp - heavy andbulbous as it bounced against my face. The suddenness of what Graceintended hit me. I wanted to open my eyes, but she'd told me not to.Even with my eyes closed, I could feel Grace's eyes burning on me, as shewatched my reaction to the cock she was rubbing across my lips. I waitedpassively, knowing full well what she intended, but resisting in my ownway. Grace seemed patient though. She said nothing. She. “I don’t believe you. I believe you feel guilty. I believe that you will go back to your husband or your mom and diss me behind my back. And the truth really is, on my part, that I do not think of you much anymore. So put that in your pipe and smoke it,” I said. She was crying.“Okay, but you’re in the wrong in all of this,” she said. “You may be justified in your bitterness, but you are in the wrong.” And then she got up and left. We’d barely touched our coffees.It was Sunday. It was the 4th..
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