Startled he backed up, and looked around, trying to see who'd thrown the object. But he saw no one. With a shrug he examined it. It was a bottle, seem...ngly made of blue glass...but given that it had just fallen on the ground and showed not a scratch, that couldn't be right, could it? He picked it up, and was astonished by it's lightness...even if it was empty, it should be heavier than this, surely? And given that it was sealed tightly with wax, he doubted that it was empty. Overcome by. Male or female I wondered, and prayed it was female? How did she look?I couldn't remember.The hand was excruciatingly patient, moving feather-like for an indeterminate amount of time before squeezing me firmly, as if testing the depth to which I slept. If anything could be judged by being fondled in the middle of the night, in a darkened plane and several kilometers above the earth, its that I assumed the fingers and hand belonged to someone experienced. How else could they fondle me, possible. More

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