Or even another country. Had he thought about that?In fact, he'd thought about a lot of things, and that was but one of them. Divorced, broke and over...lowing with hate, he had migrated north of the border, found employment in a small factory in Ontario, then, fumbled a stupid attempt to hijack its payroll.So, once again here he was, five-years later, no less bitter, but seasoned, and happy to be breathing free air once more as he walked along a side street off St. Catherine in the warm. And then his weight, the first I notice. Death has taken us away, and our bodies return. To be resurrected, bodies again, my brain is moving. Soft. Clay. A little bird is flitting outside our window. I can hear a car."Shit, Nicky, that felt good, fuck," I finally say. We are soaked. Breathless.I cling to him, his breath in my ear, and I kiss his shoulder wet with sweat. My mouth is open, I can barely control my limbs, am panting have to breath through my mouth. Our kisses are just open mouths. More

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