Chapter Thirteen
I am walking Chrissy in the garden when Mrs. Kraft comes rolling up the driveway in the four by four with two throbbing motorcycles riding escort.
It has been two weeks since Chrissy took my arm and walked out of the cellar. She looked pitiful then, staggering and squinting at the brightness of a sun she had forgotten. There is magic in little things though. Hot water and soft towels, hot food and soft words, such things restore the spirit as well as the body.
Chrissy’s diet is not as rich as it was when we first met, she is more angular now. I feel that I am in the presence of a frail flesh and blood woman, instead of some over inflated s*x doll. She is tawny and sleek, moving with the self-conscious grace of one who is constantly on display. Daily walks in the sun hav
