Dad- and the rest of the people inthe church- freeze in place as I sprint toward the altar and lift theveil of my bride...I wake up with a start, alon... in my bed, and groan as the dream startsto fade from my memory. I strain my thoughts, desperately trying toremember any detail of the face underneath the veil, but nothing comesto mind. I groan and collapse back onto my pillow, for the first timeever praying that when I fall asleep, I'm NOT praying of the church Ifind myself in virtually every. She was wearing a dressing gownwhich was tied at the waist in a loose bow. Where she was standing left very little room between her, the ironing board and a large armchair meaning I had to squeeze by her to get into the room. As i pushed by I jokingly tickled her waist and said ' Come on you old tart, I havent got the whole day'I knew that she was extremely ticklish and she began to wriggle away from me but she was unable to move because of the iron. She tried to turn to tryand return the. More

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