False stories never last so it’ll go away.”I think she was tempted to say something but she seemingly didn’t inquire. I thought to myself that I...didn’t know about romance but friends I could tolerate. She had, at least to me, become a better person.We had come to the patio and I had waved her to a seat. I sat in another. We sat back enjoying the sun. It was warm but not bad. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a glint from the trees. I said, “I’m afraid that I need to check my cameras. I. ”“May I touch them?” I asked.“You may.” I ran my fingers along one of his tentacles, feeling his smooth, green skin. “They’re not sensitive to touch,” he explained, “not any more than the back of your hand.”“They’re sensitive to nerve impulses,” I remarked.“That they are.”I let it snake between my fingers. It was so supple without any internal structure except the fine muscles under his skin that allowed it to move. “I imagine they’re delicate.”“They’re sensitive but not fragile,” he. More

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