Chennai Aunty

There was a framed map of Brittany fixed to the wall in the hotel entrance; we gathered round it and discussed where to go next.“Here we are, almost at Dinan. We want to avoid St. Malo, I think, but the big decision is whether we go all out and try to reach the west coast, or go easier and stay on the north?”“How far to the west coast?”There was a pause as Adrian looked carefully at the map.“From the scale of this map, I’d say a hundred and fifty kilometres, that’s about a hundred miles. Not quite as far as we’ve come already, but then of course we’d have to come back, and at the same speed we’ve been doing, we’d probably have a day there on the coast, maybe two, and have to turn round.”“Blast! They say the west coast is beautiful.”There was another pause for thought.“Do the French allow bikes on trains?”“That’s not a bad idea!”The upshot was that we cycled into Dinan, found the railway station, asked the question, and an hour later found ourselves on a train to Brest. It took nearly. Daddy said that you have an incredible tolerance for pain. He doesn’t understand how you can take the punishment he’s seen you take. He thinks, perhaps, that you’re addicted to pain and self-flagellation.” Béla smiled. The manner in which she was able to ‘experience’ pain was definitely addictive, but not for the reasons her father believed.“I have never, ever fucked that hard!” Elaine told her as she picked up a piece of fruit off the bed.“Oh, then you’ve never met your sister, Melinda?” Béla asked, cattily.“Well, I know Melinda, but only as a drone,” Elaine said. “Why, what’s she like?”“She likes to set you on fire and ram hot pokers up your ass,” Béla explained. She watched juice from the fruit Elaine was eating run down the side of her mouth and drip onto her blood-speckled, freshly healed breast. She closed her eyes, trying to think about blank spaces. She could feel Elaine grinning slyly at her. In her mind, she felt Elaine bite into the fruit again, this time taking a much.
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