... that I am fated to die a maid. It is a cold evening and the view outside the window is all dark and I look forward to a cold bed with no possibility of an intercourse.
After few hours
Erik dropped me home in his big car. He took my Julia Child. I will now write a little and then settle down with my The Complete Cartoons of The New Yorker. And yes, I'm alone but I'm not feeling lonely.