The nails that dig into her skin slacken their hold. The small, bloodied hands slide slowly back into the water. She lets go. The little body slides f...rther down into the tub. Her face, as she lifts him gently out of the water is soft, the expression of an adoring mother. She dries him with a towel, white and fluffy, cloud cloth. She wraps the cold body inside it, holding him in her arms while she reaches into the bathroom cabinet for antiseptic and bandages. Tenderly, she cleans the wounded. We sat at each end of the table and we talked as we ate the food, which was excellently made. I was lost in her fine, brown eyes. She was so lovely, more lovely in person than I could have ever imagined. I was smitten. We spoke and ate.After we finished, we went back into the kitchen to clear up. She put her apron back on and she offered to do the washing up. I said that I would do it but she insisted and I tied off the apron again, this time I got in a little too close, I couldn't help. More

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