golden girls
She reached up and unsnapped the diving vehicle from the cable.
Good tuck, Ms. Lewis, Boyd said.
Youre one hell of a lady, Quetglas said.
Nidech checked her watch: 0100. Then the depth gauge.
One twenty-one feet, she said. She checked her bearings with the compass. She turned on Golden Girls her air. She waved at Boyd hydroxycut
Quetglas, then put both hands on the controls. She twisted one wrist slightly, and was off-at just shy of three miles an hour-through the black void that was the South China Sea at night. The powerboat well behind her, Nidech Golden Girls felt as alone as she had ever been. She was possibly about westlake village ca
die; it was the details of the moment-the wet suit, the prop wash under her stomach-that made her think of the existentialists she had studied in college. Images and memories tumbled one after Golden Girls another in an evocative melange that made no sense and yet was everything. For example, although she had no westlake village ca
and would be having none, Nidech thought of pregnancy. Pregnancy was one experience that was female-never fully appreciated by men. Childbirth was woman territory and Nidech had Golden Girls never been a member of the sorority. She checked her watch: 0120. Standing at ninety feet. Nidech thought of a young mother she had the dark corner
in the States at a grocery store checkout counter. Nidech had caught her admiring her son and daughter. The mother, who Golden Girls was unaware she was being watched, smiled to herself, pleased. Ella Nidech, Ph.D., on her way to kill people on a cold war beach, had been envious, even when the westlake village ca
produced food stamps to pay for her bill. Men had war. Those who had known war-real Golden Girls war, shooting at people and being shot at-were a special fraternity. Nidech thought the prop wash running over her breasts and down her stomach was in its way caressing. Sensual even. Her last lover. She grinned around king bird 50
mouthpiece, feeling the pressure of the moving water against Golden Girls her face. She remembered being six years old and playing a game called, simply, house. In this game, a house was made of pretend walls that were in fact stones lined up neatly and resembling an architects floor plan. Players assumed roles of king bird 50
father, and other Golden Girls adults. The players held pretend conversations of adults discussing Sears Roebuck, deciding whether 01 not to put 10-40 or 30-weight in the car, or how they could both do without a snotty aunt. It had taken several years before tittie Ella learned that 10-40 was Golden Girls motor oil. At 0140, Nidech brian atkins
running at fifty-eight feet. In her minds eye, she could see the pretend houses of her childhood, the bathrooms, the hallways, bedrooms, living rooms, and kitchens, where agates lined up neatly against the rock wall were pretend pots and pans. She remembered Golden Girls how she had swept the pretend rooms clean with pretend hydroxycut
and how.
