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Evans shuddered as a quiet cough went through him. He stared at her with bright eyes.Gina handed him a glass a water after the cough settled and he to...k a sip.“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay tonight? I don’t mind.”“No honey, I’ll be all right.” He smiled at her.“You always look at me as if you’ll never see me again. I’ll be back in the morning.”“I know. It’s just you’re so pretty and at my age, you never know.”She kissed him on his liver spotted forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Do you. Camilla was waking up again. She could hear her own blood coarsening through her veins, her heart beating, there was a nagging headache following the rhythm of her heart beat. She moaned and noticed there was something in her mouth. Something warm and fleshy. She tried to push it away, to turn her head, to use her hands and then suddenly it was gone, it was replace by a muggy cloth on top of her nose and mouth. Sharp fumes crawling into her noise, making her even more groggy. She vaguely. She urged me to do so, giving hints along the way of her most secret thoughts and desires, which I gradually began to include in my writing to her. Over the course of the next few months, I wrote her often until I found myself writing her short simple paragraphs each and every night. There were of course days that I might not hear from her at all. But still I wrote. I learned in those days of silence that she was indeed in need of extended medical care, her illness, condition, whatever it was. In the first, I have emerged from the surf onto the beach, wearing my wetsuit. I find my towel, wrap it around my waist, and modestly, with some difficulty, take down the bottoms of my wetsuit. Obviously I am not wearing anything under the wetsuit. Now comes the top. I am standing, pulling the top of the wetsuit over my head. Anyone with experience knows that this is not easy. The suit clings to the body, not wanting to comply. And worst of all, I have "forgotton" to unzip the top. The towel.
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