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Today is his funeral and all I can think of is how our relationship began. Steve was six months older than me and we were neighbours as teenagers. He was lucky enough to have access to a twenty foot cruiser that we could take out fishing at weekends. We would stay out overnight as the cabin had a galley, a shower, a toilet and three bunks below. On my sixteenth birthday we decided to spend our usual weekend on the river. We spent the day fishing and at the end of the day found a sheltered inlet to anchor for the night. After dinner we both showered and sat around the cabin in our shorts, talking about anything and everything. Eventually the talk got around to sex and eventually Steve asked me if I had ever fucked anyone. A little embarrassed I shook my head and then looked at Steve and asked him, “Have you ever been with a girl, Steve?” He shook his head and moved his conversation in another direction asking me if I had ever masturbated. I was stunned and just shook my head. Steve. Pressing the hilt of his katana to his chest, with blade centered on his nose, Trenton fell into a meditative trance. Expanding his psychic presence so that it enveloped the whole area, he now did to her what she was doing to him. Just as he couldn’t pinpoint her presence, now she could no longer know his movements and thus avoid him. Rising from his meditation, but maintaining his extended field of psychic vision, he chose the pathway in front of him and continued to creep, relying on his natural senses. Trenton followed the ancient hall to its end, searching its edifices and holes along the way. A three way intersection lay at the end of the hall, so he randomly chose left. This path was even more dingy than the last, with part of the ceiling tiles on the floor, which itself was covered in seepage from the sewer’s and aqua ducts above. Nearly to the end of the path, where it turned a corner to the left, he finally felt her nearby presence. Trenton stopped, being careful not to.
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