Fog billowed on the other side of the hole in reality. Three figures stood in the mist. A blonde woman, her hair in a tight bun, clutched the dagger, ...lanked by a hulking, African American and an older man with graying hair. All three wore black, tactical garb, the two men holding assault rifles and the woman had a sword sheathed at her hip.I blinked at that. A sword? I shuddered. It felt ... evil.They stepped through. "You're Deidre?" the blonde asked."Yeah. You're Noel?" I asked, stepping. Now she was single and I somehow gained access to her inner circle of friends. That wasn’t hard in a small town but she was the difficult kind to get close to. I knew Indian women can be cold but this one was well below freezing point! Any hint of what she thought was a ‘hit’ received a prompt rebuttal often with a harsh word. But knowing her better and with many occasions to be with her over a period of time I submerged that deterrent in a sea of desire that was damning up inside me. I read so. More

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