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Neither the former, nor the latter appealed to me very much, and so I had turned the end of the year into something relaxed and quiet for me and my loved ones, ever since I’m living alone.2016 is no exception. Novella and myself had a nice evening, watching a little bit of TV and she enjoyed a few glasses of wine while I ravaged the orange juice. Among all the relaxation, however, I noticed that something was bothering her. “So, how has it been this year?” it finally burst out of her.I raised my eyebrow and sipped on my glass of orange juice. “How’s what been?” I asked and acted stupid. “You mean in general, or... ?”“Well, especially with regards to publishing,” she said curious. I was the only author she was close friends with, and since reading was her great passion – well, aside from sex, so make that ONE of her great passions – she gobbled up every bit of news she could about my profession.I snorted laughing. “Publishing is a big word, isn’t it?” I asked and grinned. “I just. .." Would you like to have been there, been one of those girls?" I dream about it at night." It's become your fantasy?" Its more than daydreaming. I really do dream about this stuff at night. In my them I'm the one named Harriet, and yet myself, both at once. We get all mixed up with each other. I don't know if I am her, or if she is me." I suppose that accounts for the hair does it?" Shhh! Its Lord Dammartin now."An ageing man addresses the audience in the plum-rich tones of the British aristocracy, says how Caroline is his latest acquisition and that he has high hopes of her. He turns to Caroline and tells her: "Now, dear girl, the time has come for you to choose. Take your time. You are among friends."He gives the word to undo the shackles that bind her. She rubs each wrist while her collar is removed, the chaffing of her throat then clear to see. She brushes her hair from her face and then stands proud as she casts her eyes over the guests before she turns around to look at the.
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