If I couldn’t walk, what did that make me? Michelle was very supportive. She was at my side everyday while I was in the hospital. She was the only r...ason I hadn’t slipped into severe depression. Any time I started feeling down, she would remind me that she stilled loved me, and that she would help me figure things out. When I had healed enough, and had learned to get around in a wheelchair, the hospital released me and I went home to our apartment. It had been a month since the accident, and we. ” “I’m serious,” she giggled afresh then, reaching down beneath her side of the bed, withdrew two scarves of indeterminate length, dropping them delicately on the coverlet in front of me. I began to panic. “What the Hell?” I was thinking, “I’ve married a street whore.” The concept gained appeal even as I pondered it. “So…you want I should tie you up.” I countered. Where? To the bed? To the cat? She indicated the bed-head behind her. “Guess we’d better get you looking the part then,”. More

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