Epilogue
I stayed the night. I stayed for three years. Janet, the septuagenarian, had me in her beautiful, manicured, prehistoric clutches. I felt like a gravedigger that had stumbled upon unspeakable riches.
And here is my secret. Janet was my first real girlfriend. My pen-pusher days were finally over. Gone was my library research mole existence. Janet changed my status from an onlooker, from a fly on the wall, into a living participant of life’s secrets for the very first time. Suddenly life wasn’t mundane anymore. It wasn’t something someone else was doing. I almost felt like a Mandarin.
I had moved on, into the world of worldly affairs, of love, of touch, of menacing attractions, of tangible exotica. I took flight. It was a move that enabled me to write these stories. It is not
