Like my nagging need to empty my bladder, my rumbling tummy and my empty cup of coffee that needs filling. No, if I get up that will be it and I’ll ...ose it, the theme of the story.So I kept going and the words just kept pouring out of me. It was morning before I knew it and the dawn chorus of birds broke into my consciousness with their insistent and constant chirping and the sound of the breakers hitting the beach. I hate being distracted. I think it may have something to do with the touch of. 'Seated at a large table were about half a dozen eight year oldgirls. They were wearing pink plastic smocks to protect theirclothes from the paint. From a peg the woman picked up a smockfor me. I stood with my arms outstretched as she put it on me andzipped it up at the rear. She sat me down between to other girlsand gave me brushes and paper. The room smelt of poster paint andcrayon and reminded me of my school days. I looked at the girlnext to me and she smiled, I smiled back my teary eyes. More

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