Knives on New Years Eve
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The room was dimly lit. The sound and heat of a crackling fire warmed her. She could hear, but not see, blindfolded and chained to a Saint Andrews Cross as she was, in the center of the room. The sound of him drawing his knife from its sheath reached her ears, and then came the touch. Cold steel on bare flesh and she shuttered. Fear, tempered by trust gripped her as he drew it to her throat.
For New Years Eve, we enjoyed the company of friends and fine food at a house party. Its a lovely way to bring in the New Year. Surrounded by good people, your own kind, where people gather in the kitchen and the conversation can range over a broad spectrum of subjects. This year we avoided politics. Frequent jokes and laughter. I am grinning now, at one point someone told a joke that took…
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