I began to calm down, kicking myself for the ridiculous display of emotion. I supposed that nearly killing a colleague had knocked me off my feet mome...tarily. Perfectly understandable, I assured myself. “What part of Manhattan do you live in, Garrigan? Upper East Side? Gramercy Park?” The fortress-like tower of an ancient suspension bridge rose above us. “Brooklyn.” “Brook- but that’s not… Brooklyn?” “Yup.” It wasn’t that I’d never heard of Brooklyn. I’d seen Saturday Night Fever, for God’s. Chicken a la Parker!My fantasies about Anne went that direction. Strangely enough, I think I had some intuition that these kinky fantasies weren't all fiction. I mean, Anne developed a taste for gothic attire soon afterwards, and began hanging out with friends who all seemed to be looking for the next big thrill.When I was in my room jerking off at night, I knew that Anne was sneaking out her bedroom window. I could almost picture every moment of her evening as she joined up with her new. More

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