I pick up the first item, a white feather. I hold it in front of my eyes, the candlelight permeating through the almost microscopic filaments. I lean ...orward and let the fine tip of the feather gently stroke the back of your ankle. You tense a little, knowing contact has been made and my game has started. I slowly run the feather up and down the length of your leg. As the feather reaches the back of your knee you start to squirm and then up the inside of your thigh. The touch of the feather is. . trying to relax and contemplating my latest violation of social morality and civil law. As the flames began to crackle and lick at the bark of the new logs and the smell of wood smoke slowly filled the room, I drifted off to sleep.The landscape was flat and barren, devoid of vegetation and deathly silent. There was no sun, no moon, no stars in the reddish orange sky, no way to tell which direction I was walking. I was walking, toward what I had no idea, but I was moving. There didn't seem to. More

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