’ I smiled and kissed her. She beamed, after looking nervously at the back of the restaurant where a husband or lover worked, no doubt. ‘You’re ... very nice man.’ I waited in my truck, listening to classical music. When they came out of the restaurant I drove forward, stopping opposite the parking lot when they stopped against the sports car and kissed. I was some distance away but clearly saw the arm of James Henry Mercer disappearing under the hem of my wife’s short skirt and saw her legs. The dog didn’t move, but I could hear her snorting. I wasn’t sure what I should do. Stay down, hoping that the dog didn’t attack me, then feel like an idiot when the man finds me hiding behind the bush. Stand-up and feel like an idiot when I disclose my own hiding spot and hope the dog doesn’t attack. But my first thought was, luckily, to start wiping my semen from my hands. Then, just as he got close, I stood. My mind whirring a million miles an hour trying to figure-out what I was. More

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