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I'm fine." Cindy stated, and she did sound like nothing was wrong."Cindy." Amanda stated quietly. "I can feel your tears on my tummy. They're trickling down onto..." Please. Amanda. Don't gloat." Cindy interrupted."What?" Amanda asked, confused."Please. Cover yourself. Cover him." Cindy said, and reached around Amanda herself to draw the blankets back around her sister's shoulders and tuck them closed in front of her breasts."What's wrong, Cindy? I thought you'd be happy for me, it all worked better than we hoped!" Amanda said worriedly."Amanda." Cindy said tiredly. "I'm trying to be happy for you, really I am. But you've gotta understand. When I knew they weren't coming back, I promised myself that I'd finish raising you right. Sometimes the responsibility of looking after you was the only thing that kept me going. I tried so hard to keep you on the right track and in school, and when I found out you were... were kinky, I thought I'd be able to get you to want more... healthy. ..” I said to no one in particular.“Well, there’s no need for that kind of language, young man,” the lady admonished me with a sniff. “I’m sure she’ll turn up.” She moved on. “Princess!”Four hours ago:“Here, kitty kitty...”“Mrr?” Princess, safe at home, sashayed over to the mail slot where the voice had come from. As she approached she saw a mouse push through and drop to the floor, its very long tail still caught in the slot. Princess pounced, holding the mouse in her claws as she clamped her teeth at the back of its neck. Crunch! There, now she could play with it at her leisure... Something wrapped around her. The mouse’s tail! This was very strange, Princess thought.The tail grew wider and denser, quickly immobilizing and constricting the cat. “Mowrr!” she screamed. Then the not-mouse thing expanded even more, its strange-smelling flesh covering her entirely.There was a sickening crunching sound as the cat’s skeletal structure was pulverized within the sac of flesh Demie had.
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As her arms enclosed around his neck, she felt his lips kiss a path from her shoulder to her ear and back again. The morning he flew out from the aerodrome, they had embraced like this. She could still feel his warm breath make its way to her ear as she lingered in his arms. His scent mixed with the smell of leather from his flight jacket. He was a volunteer from America flying with the RAF against the Germans. She was a widow, her husband a casualty of the air battle that had been raging over Britain for almost a year. As fate would have it, he was assigned to her husband’s squadron. The American’s prowess in combat had gained him acceptance by his comrades, if not forgiveness by all for the developing relationship with Samantha. He whispered in his southern drawl, ‘I love you, Darling, please don’t worry. I promise, I’ll return to you.’ He had kissed Sam hard and without another word turned and walked to the idling Spitfire. The roar of the Rolls-Royce engines shattered the quiet.

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