I told him tales about the wild bars of the Philipeans and about the legendary massage parlours of Hong Kong. His favourite though were about the youn... female officers who liked to go slumming with the enlisted, forbidden lust in exotic foreign cities that cost more than one their promising career.He would tell me stories about what he believed was his best work, his erotic nudes of the cities' elite ladies that went on behind closed doors. He had lived in New Orleans nearly all his life making. “Good morning” I said. “Can you make me some of those?”Standing at the stove, he tended to his eggs without turning. “Morning. I guess so.”“Hey, you can look at me – I’m dressed!”He looked back over his shoulder and scowled. “Amy!”“What? I can’t talk to my favorite grandfather?”“You know ... how do you want them?”“Sunny side up – nice and gooey so I can slurp it up in my spoon. Make it two – with one piece of sausage.”He just slowly shook his head without turning as he continued to cook. After. More

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