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I had your best hunting equipment sent right behind you. Knowing the Grontec's from all the information you supplied I thought it best." The A.I. told her.A most sincere smile crossed her lips. There were times she thought that her A.I. was more alive than she thought it should be. Watching on a live feed she decided she might as well eat, then she'd kill him. Thinking a moment she nodded yeah seems best."Trigon. Find out as much as you can about the item we just sold. Gather everything and correlate another buyer. One that would be less suicidal and more greedy. Gonna need one after I kill him and take it back." Wren stated."Working Master Wren, I should have everything in an hour." The A.I. replied."Good I'm going after Baroton." Wren told her A.I. as she started off back toward the city.__________________________________________________________________________Baroton laughed as he went into his dwelling with the vial. Once he consumed what it held he'd have ultimate power!. From one second to the next, I moved the shower curtain to the back."Dad?" Britney asked, with a disgusted face as she turned to me.My eyes widened, and I got a look at her naked body from head to toe."Dad, what the hell?" she whined, covering her boobs and pussy. "I'm naked in here, and what are you doing with my thong?" Holy shit, I'm sorry, Britney," I apologized, dropping it and covering my face. "I thought you were mom, that's all. I saw your car gone, and her car is out front." Yes, she borrowed my car because she wanted you to take a look at her's." Oh, okay, again, I'm so sorry. I had no idea it was you in there; I'm just going to go now. I love you." I love you too, Dad, I'm sorry too. No one was trying to mislead you." I understand, but you're a beautiful young lady," I complimented her, moving the curtain."That's not helping, Dad, but thank you."I didn't say another word, grabbed my clothes and went to my bedroom. I had no idea how to think or feel, but I certainly felt.
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He cut across his overgrown lawn, making for the trail he had cut years ago, the trail that led down to the sea. To the trail that had been cut, he could see now, for just this walk. He stopped at a white skinned birch and looked up at it’s narrow branches, at it’s autumn finery now long spent, waiting for the next storm to bring an end. He reached out and placed his hand on the tree, feeling it’s strength, his sorrow like the coolness of the tree’s skin. He turned and reached out to the house on the hill, to the amber-hued grief so casually concealed behind lace-curtained windows, and he looked at the weathered shingles, so at home in this landscape. Worn out and cold — like the feeling in his breast. Nothing. He felt nothing beside the burning in his arm, and he wondered why. Why, after so many years love could be reduced to such a wretched, withered thing. His wife, his friend, the mother of all that had gone wrong with time, the womb of his every hope and dream. A thing to be.

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