“Er, excuse me young man,” I felt a hand clamp my shoulders. Turning, I saw a traffic cop. You can always tell a traffic cop, their caps are white...rather than black.“What?” I asked, vaguely, wanting to get back to my shooting.“You cannot be photographing this.”“Oh. Sorry, erm, hang on,” I dropped my camera, it was on a strap around my neck so it didn’t fall, and grabbed my wallet. From it I pulled a business card and handed it over.“Colin Pearce. Photographer,” read the policeman. “You’re not. At 9am there was a soft knock at the front door, I look out thru the peep and there he was, I opened and he ducked in quickly. He turns and said I parked down the street I don’t think anyone saw me, and then he realizes what I’m wearing or not wearing. I lock the door and walk away from him down the hall, at the end of the hall before going into the master bedroom I turn and pull off my nightie and turn around again and go into the bedroom I climb on the bed on my knees just like I did for. More

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