Seven For A Secret Never To Be Told.

Margaret Pollock I'd been the scourge of her life for so many years..

Laying in my hospital bed left me with plenty of time to think of the hell I must have put her though old sweaty Pollock.

My mind raced, I must have really made her life so miserable. My heart racing as the handsome Doctor approached my bed. How on earth can you expect an accurate reading from the monitor when faced with those chiselled good looks. Tall, dark and extremely handsome, he stood at around 6ft 3". His white coat straining across his toned chest, a glimpse of chest hair and mahogany skin teased the senses, reminders of the nights I spent, my head resting on it as we watched the world pass by  .

Maybe something good will come of this I think to myself and God did he smell good too. An undertone of pine reminded me of those halcion days spent on the Greek mainland. Those days were best forgotten, too many secrets, too many lies. I hoped against all hope that he wouldn't recognise me. I'd changed so much from those days when all I had to worry about was which bikini to wear and what factor suncream to apply that day. The sweet smell of musk and bitter sweet memories of lustful nights. My head reeling, was it the closeness of this Greek adonis or maybe the morphine, but hell who cares, it felt so good being so close to him again.

My mind wandered, I was so tired but unable to sleep as I closed my eyes to start counting sheep ( a trick I learnt from dear old Grandma) all I could see was magpies, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight  ...........

The End

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