We met the next night in a dream, reclining in an autumn painted orchard by a river bed. On a quilted blanket of down we held each other without restraint, lost in each others gaze that we had dared not fall prey to in waking hours. For when else but in the forgiving shrouds of dream can one hope to know such perfection without the threat of madness. A timeless passage of hours held me within those eyes until I died to be born anew. My hand brushed hers and made a slow, deliberate ascension along her forearm and passed her elbow where my fingertips could grace to the soft parts of her flesh where the joints met. Cupping her shoulder I dared the first kiss and drank of her lips as if they were ripened fruit. My breath failed me as if being expelled to make room for the passion that was swelling within me. When she returned the kiss I was filled with her breath, exchanged for my own and we collided as one. Her hands on me anchored my soul to my flesh at the same time her kiss set my. Tim had to find a glass place that was open on Christmas Eve. Jill told the boys to go with him after he called around and found a place open, but it was way out in Lansing, a long drive away.Jill sighed and took her burnt pie out of the oven; it was ruined because she had to wait for Tim's stupid machines to work before they took their Christmas card photo.She grumbled to herself as she shivered as the cold winter air came rushing in through the broken pane of glass. She went to the basement to grab a frozen pie so they would still have some dessert.Unknown to Jill or the Taylor clan, a man had been watching homes in the area. He prowled homes during the holiday season and stumbled upon the Taylor home as Tim and the boys got in the car and drove away. Deciding that this house was empty, and a goldmine of goodies, he walked to the rear, and lo and behold was able to simply reach through the shattered glass to open the door.After letting himself in, the burglar went upstairs to look.
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