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It was subtle, but I think she noticed.Her hand stopped caressing mine and slowly slid away. I cringed, she had figured out why I was adjusting and was pulling away. Then I heard the power recliner in her seat come to life, and she started to sit up a bit. I sat still, trying to focus on the screen, not to look at her. Here I was with this beautiful woman caressing my hand, I had to get a damn boner, and she figured it out. Probably grossing her out, and now she was about to get up and move.My brain was too busy self chastising to immediately realize when her hand returned to the armrest. She was trying to get her hand under my arm, and I didn’t know it until she pressed really firmly against me. With an awkward motion, I lifted my arm up and felt her hand and arm slide beneath mine. Her hand then came to a rest on my thigh. My erection had started to fade with my self chastising, now in only a few heartbeats, it was coming back with a vengeance.It was just a hand. It was. Something catching in my thoughts, I blurted out, "Thank you." Huh?" my sister mumbled, looking up from her thoughts."Thank you," I repeated. "For always fighting for me. I wish I didn?tneed it, that I could do it on my own or at least help or something, but..." Sniffing back a few tears, I continued, "Thank you so much foreverything. Without your help, I don?t know what I?d do." Aw, Vali, of course I?d help!" Misha declared, springing up from herseat. A few steps later, she had her arms around me, pulling me into atight embrace. "I?m always gonna be there for ya. I promise."Frustration welled up within me as, yet again, things turned to my sistersupporting me. I?d wanted to do the opposite, but it seemed that wasimpossible. I could already feel the tears starting to spill out of myeyes."I know," I answered, trying to push through as best I could. "I justwanted you to know how much it means to me ... how grateful I am ... and..."In a voice sounding as full of emotion as my.
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Things happen because they happen, that’s all. Go back far enough in time and kill a butterfly, and you change the entire history of the world. I paid my check and walked slowly down the boardwalk to the spot where the crowd had gathered. The ring of people by this time stood about three deep, so at first all I could see was an occasional blur and flash of white in the center. As I sought a better vantage point by means of demure little stabs of my elbow, the crowd began to part for me, first grudgingly, then graciously. It’s not hard to notice the extra courtesy that physical attractiveness seems to inspire in people who are ordinarily quite surly. By the time I reached the inner row of watches I could see what it was that had drawn them so inexorably. It — he, I should say, for the masculinity flared from his body like a firestorm from the surface of the sun — was a mime, a man dressed quite simply in a black dancers body suit and with only the barest suggestion of the white facial.

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