"Reload your pistol," I said."Can't," she whispered, her breath soft on my face, her firm breast against my upper arm, "don't have the balls with me."...She produced the tiny gun from her dark boot.I took the still-warm weapon, poured a thimble of powder in its barrel and found a suitable pebble I could ram down its muzzle and then primed it. "Better than nothing," I said, handing it back to her on half-cock. She looked at me, furrowing her brow as she holstered it, displaying a slit in her skirt. Her dad was also an avid reader and they sometimes borrowed books off one other. Sara once had ‘The Story of O’ on the shelf and he had spotted it. Brian had told him that he had bought a box of second hand books from a church jumble sale and that book had been amongst them. It was a part truth. He had actually bought a box of books but that one hadn’t been amongst them. She wasn’t sure whether or not he had believed him but sometimes she smiled to herself about it. The thought of ‘daddy’s. More

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