I heard the soft click of a marker uncapped. The Mask's hand reached to the back of my neck and held my head. I felt the pen writing on the tape. Whis...ered letters, as the Mask wrote them. "C... R... Y... B... A... B... Y..." Hey," I started to say, but lips met mine silencing me. The lips were soft, and I could feel no sign of mustache or razor stubble. A woman? I couldn't tell. Strong hands, but oh those lips; and the scent of roses again. I tried to stop thinking of the lips as belonging to. The windows remained closed during the winter as our Midwestern climate dictated. On the side of the house was a large basswood. My father had me help him trim limbs each fall. I took it upon myself to cut a viewing window from the center of the tree to the bathroom window. I opened the window one night and climbed the tree – the view of the shower was perfect. Now I just had to be patient.The first warm days of March brought my first chance. I opened the window wide in the afternoon but. More

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