It was a kiss that spoke of love and trust and hope rather than sex and passion. On breaking the kiss she cradled his head in her arms and pulled him ...o her breast. The softness and warmth of a woman's breast drew the fear and despair from him, replacing it with primordial comfort. His lips sought the nipple and he gently began to suckle using programming buried deep in his brain since birth. She responded with maternal instincts that were her birthright, and stroked his troubled brow while. I was dead at eighty years old and they were burying me. I felt the pressure grow with every shovelful of dirt they piled on. Of course I couldn’t breathe. Of course I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t feel anything but the growing pressure. I was dead. I needed to just let go. There was nothing there on the other side of death but the absorption of my body into the pressure of earth. Maybe one day, like dinosaurs of old, I would become oil trapped in a layer of shale, pumped out to fuel a car or its. More

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