white canvas chair, romance and determinism,

it is sunny now and I am sitting in the shade of the apple tree on a white canvas chair [picture]. Reading the proposal that we buy another mansion with an estate in Shrewsbury as a second safe house, skant details of the immediate and longterm costs involved. Who would we use it for, I wonder aloud. My bra strap has slipped down on my left side which is a perfect distraction. Both for me and the people surveiling me. The sound of the birds now seems quite perfect. I think of the sound of his body as we fuck, perhaps because I’d rather be doing that than sit in the garden being watched. I feel as if it’s a false luxury, haunted by the thought of running along the line of flight away from this situation. I imagine going to the bedroom and dropping my pants to the floor and phoning him up. I’d have to pull down the blinds and lay on the bed and then my hand as I speak to him… but the windows are open and the blinds are up and I can hear the drone flying over and the cars in the road and its better and less dangerous to read the next document and look at the ROI plans. The machines have gone, i adjust my clothing and now I can hear the wind in the trees. I can never explain these feelings, which are simply residues of when I used to kill people for my family. It’s one of the things I can say to him, feelings that have reemerged with my new young body, its a hard body no longer softened by age. A young body, hormones, aggressions, mixed with an old persons mind. Parts of my body now want things that I had forgotten I wanted. In truth we both do, he was telling me he feels confused by the appearance of flashes of desire… scopophilia? I asked him. I suppose so, visual pleasure and the reappearence of hormones and pheromones, he sighed. Having old minds in these young bodies is difficult. In this situation this new version of Imo has been conceived, different than last time. Wetness. squelch. It’s perfectly obvious that we are happy. I am missing him. Though I wonder if I can avoid having to kill the Nanny this time… The straps are beautiful, just hanging off my shoulders again as I stand up, thinking I should distract myself with exercise, before the child is brought back. I went inside and changed into more steady clothing and underwear, Clothing with less thoughts of sex and more moments of violence… I went for a run, the asymmetric zip on the top was long and gold, from right shoulder to left hip, after i returned from the run I practiced using the sword in the back garden…