A man's character is his fate. -Heraclitus
Rolling off the bed, he gravitates toward the dresser. He opens a leather pouch. Extending my neck, I strain to see what he's doing. The smell of sulfur dioxide fills the room.
The light of a blue flame flickers above a Bunsen burner. Aaron picks up a thin metal rod and sets it down on a cheese cloth.
Leaning over, he grabs a rolled up towel and returns to the bed. Sitting on the edge he opens the towel. It contains a baggie with a washcloth, individual towelette packages, a small can of shaving cream, and a straight razor.
He opens a towelette and wipes down my upper thighs. "You're a natural strawberry blonde." I flinch when he tugs on the hair between my legs.
"What're you going to do?"
"You must be very still and quiet while I shave yo
