Are you making a profit at the moment?” I looked askance at this question, as I didn’t want to lie, but my books weren’t that healthy. I scrunge... up my lips, as I got the figures straight in my head, but hedged my bets and attempted to dodge the question. “Well sort of,” I said. He picked up a pencil and tapped it end over end on his desk writing pad. “When you say sort of…?” I had to come clean. “Last year we made a fifteen hundred pounds loss. First half of this year, we’ve made six. But he wasn't mean or nasty. I recall one Saturday he and Susan were in the bedroom for hours. The usual humping and thumping was punctuated with moans, groans, yelps, grunts, and screams, but there was a good hour of silence. Susan later told me Mike pulled a sketchpad from his backpack and spent that time doing charcoal drawings of her. I still have those pictures and they are not only professional in a technical sense, they evoke in the viewer a tender emotion that is far removed from the. More

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