It became a pattern for us,those times we spent talking trash to one another were filled withlight-hearted banter for a change.Whenever our paths cros...ed at the occult bookstore before, ourrelationship pattern consisted of the usual macho banter and verbal teasing. Silly me, taking sides on various power struggles inside ouroccult social circle, heckling the great stallion in front of his new-age entourage.The Fag-Hag certainly noticed, our furtive glances and facial gestures,maybe even a soft. I listened for her. I raised the flap to the cellar steps and heard nothing.Once, the stertorous sound of her breathing. It wasn't yet light when I finally warmed some more broth and went down toher with a candle. She was awake, and listening for me. She lay on the cushions,her head on her right arm, neither shy nor brazen. I could see she wasn't afraid,and for that I was glad. I knelt and poked at the remnants of the fire. Shetook several spoonfuls of soup before either of us spoke. 'You -. More

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