Chapter Six
I take off for the country Saturday morning having made reservations at a Bed and Breakfast Isaac once took me to. There are fields of wine grapes ripening for harvest, and trees ladened with apples ready to press into cider. Autumn reaches its long hand into the midst of my life and shakes it like it shakes winter-bound trees. I want no men in my life for one long day and one long night, no Robby, no stranger, no new pair of staunch legs and throbbing erection to confuse me further. I bring a satchel of books, pieces of promised hours without the outside interference of my thoughts to cloud this vacation. A bottle of brandy will help me sleep and I don’t plan to wake until noon when the hotel proprietor’s knocking on my door to remind that check-out time looms close.
It
