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There was only one voice she was hoping to hear. Then she spotted him, he was coming up the same row of stalls. She brushed off her sweater and continued towards him. Just as she was about to call out to him, he turned vanishing behind a fishmonger’sbooth. She followed after him, weaving between the endless stream of buyers and sellers and over-priced goods. She took a corner quickly and tripped over an overturned cart but got up and kept on walking. However, by the time she got to the spot. ‘Aren’t they all? It was 1979, sex and drugs were the norm, and my dad couldn’t get enough of either. He embraced decadence with gusto, carousing the streets of Dallas with this or that floozy, blitzed out of his mind on cocaine and alcohol. My mother on the other hand, was more practical. She begged him to settle down, to be the husband and father she honestly thought he could be, but he would have none of it. Eventually my mother got fed up. She sold the house my grandfather had given us. They were fun and all, but when she took her first one that showed a little more than it should have…. She had become hooked! Since then, she had probably taken thousands of pictures of herself in various stages of undress. Most she had deleted. Some she had shared. That had all started a long time ago… maybe six years ago?!?!She picked up the phone and looked carefully at the prints. They definitely were different than her own fingers made and besides, she had a thing about her phone. She. His arms were outstretched, as if he could catch her. She was lying face down at the bottom of the stairs, breathing in short gasps, trembling all over. He ran down the stairs, muttering a prayer. By the time he got to her, she was trying to push herself up. Her palms pressed against the floor, her elbows sticking out. The contents of her handbag were strewn across the tiles, and her left shoe was missing. ‘Did you hurt yourself?’ he asked, touching her back lightly. She turned on her side,.
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