The “If-I-really-want-to-finish-you-off-you-don’t stand- a-chance” look. And she was right. It wasn’t just thebeautiful woman ...ancing with me in the night. It wasthe moment. Whether you think of it as religious, orfate or life tapping you on the shoulder and remindingyou, “Remember this? This was part of it, too. Nowdon’t forget, fool.”When she began making suggestive movements with herlips as I played with my balls I felt pushed, or pulledover the. She wasn't there when I got home, just a note."It doesn't mean anything. I wish you wouldn't be such an asshole about it. I'm spending the night somewhere else, to let you cool down. Not with a man. I love you."I got another beer, sat in the dark, and thought about how we got here.She was twenty three, I was twenty five when we met. It was at a party a friend threw. She had just moved to town, was there with a cousin. There was an instant attraction.She was attractive, in a tomboy kind of way.. More

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