What the hell had I done? That will not happen again I told myself. The guilt of it was oozing out of my pores. I shuddered. My wife would know as soo... as she saw me, of that I was certain. Women are like that, so fucking perceptive. It was a combination of guilt and terror at being found out that forged into revulsion at myself during the several hours of travel. It was late evening by the time I arrived in my home town and I went to the Office for a few minutes, as I often did, to make notes. I refuse to be number 3 on your record sheet, or your scorecard.’ – ‘What … what can I do?’ For a moment, I considered revealing the bet, and tellingher everything. – ‘I don’t know, Norm. Give me time. Keep it at this level for a while. Let me get to know you better. We can just kill some time together until I can decide if you’re trustworthy.’ – ‘What is your friend, that you should seek them with hours to kill? Seek them always with hours to live.’ I’m not sure what possessed me to utter. More

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