1. The Last Flight Chapter 11


    Date: 5/19/2017, Categories: Lesbian, Author: Annamagique, Rating: 4, Source: LushStories

    continued, without any encouragement from me. “I could not stop them tormenting me. I never slept because, as soon as I closed my eyes I was back there, hearing the screams and reliving the terror and I began to drink. I found that if I drank enough, the memories would become fuzzy and easier to bear. Eventually an hour would not pass without a drink. You mother stood by me. I don't know if she ever told you but we grew up together. We were the best of friends before we became lovers. There never was, nor will there ever be, anyone else in my life who could compare to her and yet, in all my self pity and misery I destroyed the one thing that should have saved me.” He paused then, to wipe away another tear and, breaking momentarily from his tale, asked: “Did she find someone to bring her the happiness she so deserved?” “No,” I replied, “She never so much as looked at another man until the day she died.” Albert looked up suddenly. “Died?” he exclaimed, “She is dead? How?” I told him briefly of the V2 rocket attack and he seemed to shrink into the chair, shaking his head slowly. “Then,” he said, wiping away more tears and blowing his nose on a brilliant white handkerchief, “she can never know how much I love her.” I made no comment but simply waited for him to continue. “After I left for the last time,” he went on, “I was sent to North Africa. Once the Germans had been defeated there, I was brought home for the invasion. I wasn't on the beaches but dropped by air and landed ...
    behind the lines. We attacked a German tank squadron and, during the fighting, one of their tanks exploded and I was thrown against a tree with such violence that I knew nothing more for several days.” As he spoke he continued to look down at his hands. “I awoke to silence. I was lying in a gully, covered with debris and branches and had no idea what I was doing there, in a forest, how I had got there or, even, who I was. My clothes were nothing but strips of burnt rags so I threw them off and began to walk through the trees. I wandered aimlessly through the countryside for hours, never once seeing a single person until I found a remote farmhouse. An elderly couple lived there and they took me in. It was like being reborn. I had no memory of anything before waking in the woods. I could not tell them who I was. They told me later that they could not even tell if I was English, French, German or anything else as I could not speak. I worked the farm with them and slowly learned to speak French. They treated me as though I was their son and, when they passed away I found they had made arrangements for the property to pass to me. As far as I knew, I was French.” I frowned. “I am supposed to believe all this?” I said slowly. “If it is true, how is it that you are here now, telling me this when you say you have no memory?” “Because something happened,” he replied. “I had vague dreams, nightmares which I didn't understand. I dreamed of a beautiful woman and a young girl but I didn't know ...
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