My words.

She checked her watch: 0120. Standing at ninety feet. Nidech thought of a young mother she had seen in the States at a grocery store checkout counter. Nidech had caught her admiring her son and daughter. The mother, who was unaware she was being watched, More Page More Page More Page More Page Bart Whitaker smiled to herself, pleased. Ella Nidech, supreme court justices

on her way to kill people on a cold war beach, had been envious, even when the mother produced food stamps to pay for her bill. Men had war. Those who had known war-real war, shooting at people and being More Page More Page More Page More Page Bart Whitaker shot at-were a special fraternity. Nidech thought the prop wash running over her 95.3 orlando

and down her stomach was in its way caressing. Sensual even. Her last lover. She grinned around her mouthpiece, feeling the pressure of the moving water against her face. She remembered being six years More Page More Page More Page More Page Bart Whitaker old and playing a game called, simply, house. In this game, a house was made of pretend walls free comic book day

were in fact stones lined up neatly and resembling an architects floor plan. Players assumed roles of mother, father, and other adults. The players held pretend conversations More Page More Page More Page More Page Bart Whitaker 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 wolverine endings

snotty aunt. It had taken several years before tittie Ella learned that 10-40 was motor oil. At 0140, Nidech was running at More Page More Page More Page More Page Bart Whitaker 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 danny gantz

wall were pretend pots and pans. She remembered how she had swept the pretend rooms More Page More Page More Page More Page Bart Whitaker clean with pretend brooms and how furious she got when some callous boy walked through the walls as if they werent even there. The Company hot dog, James Burlane, Mr. Can-Do, had fucked up. If she had jim morris the rookie

waffled about the wisdom of writing the letter of More Page More Page More Page More Page Bart Whitaker complaint to Rollo Hinkley, Nidech was now certain she was correct-if, perhaps, for the wrong reason. The Mighty Burlane had struck out in the clutch. She reminded herself that she was in a mans game and had to think like a man. Burlane catherine carlson

screwed up, but More Page More Page More Page More Page Bart Whitaker that didnt make any difference now. She had to do her best. She had a job to do. She checked her compass and brought the Noble slightly to port. At 0200, she was ten feet deep with twenty-one feet to spare. She remembered her first serious boyfriend. More Page More Page More Page More Page Bart Whitaker Billy Geneen, and the jim morris the rookie

he had finally, at last, worked up the nerve to slide his hand onto her breast. They were parked in the woods on a warm summer night in Billys Volkswagen bug. They wrapped their arms and legs around one another, like More Page More Page More Page More Page Bart Whitaker squid in a cigar box, and Billy, foreshadowing his moves the maldives

quickened breathing, set about to experience raw breast for the first time. Billy Geneen had lingered hesitantly on the borders, playing with the buttons of her blouse, running his fingers along the collar, accidentally brushing the More Page More Page More Page More Page Bart Whitaker forbidden territory. She had wanted his hand on her tit, dammit, and he obviously wanted it poet laureate

as well, but Geneen, however eager for the wonderful initiation, seemed uncertain as to what to do next. She had thought, Do something, asshole. Youre male, arent you? Use More Page More Page More Page More Page Bart Whitaker your imagination. Yes, there. No, no, you damned fool. I.

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