’ Tears were streaming down her face and she made no move to hide them or dash them away. She scoots next to him, laying her head on his chest. ‘O... course I forgive you. How could I not?’ ‘I don’t know but I’m sure glad you do,’ he tilts her face to his, bent his head and kisses her. When the kiss broke, he smiles his crooked smile at her. ‘Merry Christmas, Gen.’ ‘Merry Christmas, Mark,’ She smiles back at him. Grinning, he says, ‘I have one more thing to ask you.’ Fumbling in his pocket, he. . When K introduced me tô this strange identity. I, I could keep in secret as I have been keeping for years the events that happened then, but something in me, especially after I started tô read and participate in this kind of erotic reading gave me courage tô expose this my secret. It's my first text here, and maybe my last. It's a form of psychoanalysis, although many of my colleagues may be laughing now when reading what I write, but it must be taken into consideration that our society would. More

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