However, it was in the main street that things got really weird, when they had met someone Ann and I knew. One of the few “tradesmen” that visited...the homestead regularly was the local dustcart and he was one of our dirty old bin-men, an American gent who had made his home here in the UK. Ann had never been keen on him since she had lived at the Homestead, he had a way of leering at her whenever he collected the bins, she said, and his eyes undressed her every time they met, however to be. It was enormous. He had one hand on it, grippingit as he jerked away but I could see his fingers didn’t meet as theyheld it. It was at least twelve inches long. His glistening pinkybrown crown was distended and his hand was a blur. Christi held my hand and gasped loudly. Efan tried to pull uphis jeans but there was no chance of hiding that lethal tool. Christiblurted out “Oh my God, Eric, look at him, just look at him!” Christimoved toward Efan, her eyes fixed on that huge. More

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