Perspective II Reflections
Perspective II: Reflections Morning After Sunday night found her still staring first at the mark on her leg, then tothe telephone, to the front door, and back to the faint red streak. It couldhave been a dream, except for that one tiny abrasion. Had it all been real?How else could she explain the outline of the leather strap? It had been soreal, the smell of the leather, the sound of his voice, even the aches in hermuscles from being tightly bound. It wasn't a dream, so what should she do?...