He told us to stick around in case they escaped the house fire. I just hoped Frank hadn’t left any evidence of arson. If he did Boss would have both...our asses. ‘No evidence, no trail, nothing left.’ His exact words. ‘Do we even know where we’re headed?’ ‘To the boy’s house. They wouldn’t go to a place with people, not with them being two teenage runaways. At least the girl wouldn’t risk it. But we have to get there soon. We have to keep the boy from changing. That’s what we’re here for.’ Our. He stood there pretty sure of looking at the right house.Hesitatingly an elder lady in waiting at the doorstep asked him politely if she could ask him maybe a queer question.She is of the generation, some year in the 70ies which doesn't dare to speak unasked for at an unknown gentleman.Writing this, is the third time I cry in ten minutes. Firstly the music. Secondly as result at a flash of million memories.Thirdly from this romantic short erotic encounter, like from a famous novel which won. More

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