Ronny had talked to her about me. Her name was Martha. I couldn’t place her ethnicity but she was tan and hot. She had a beautiful smile and shoulde... length thick dark hair. Martha asked me if I wanted to head out to her car for some fun. Seemed crazy not to go. Walking with her out to her car, one thing became apparent. She wasn’t a girl.I don’t know what I had noticed first – her hands or feet or maybe the sultry voice. She had a small frame and breasts (I hoped that they were real), but the. The troubles have cost me my family, my mother, wife and sister. And it wasn't the loyalists who killed them. It was my own people, when a bomb factory in the flat below my mother's blew up. What were they doing making bombs amongst their own innocent women and children?"That's when it came home to me and I washed my hands of the struggle. They didn't care about who lived or died, providing they got what they wanted. I couldn't be working with that kind of people for a political cause. So I. More

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