What happened? Slowly she recalled the big golden haired man. Buckley. Buckley and his enormously angry phallus. Something happened when he tried to p...netrate her. Azalea wished she her mind hadn’t been so clouded. Then he punished her. She felt the tendrils of anger rise up from her gut. He was the one who had broken her eye socket. There was someone else. The young ginger haired man. Azalea didn’t know what his name was. Wait… there was one more person. Something he wanted… a… key? ‘A key?’. Riots erupted in Watts, Philadelphia, Rochester, a flaming picnic blanket crossed the sixties; students, infuriated by memos they could not understand, seized college offices; older folk, driven by the same sense that there was insanity at the helm of the nation, drifted into organizations like the John Birch Society or the Minutemen. By 1970, a senate committee announced that there had been over 3000 terrorist bombings in the United States in a single year. Still Markoff Chaney was not. But she wanted to be home and this allowed her to do it. I told her about my little adventure and how I would be here for about five more months. We ordered something light. And got something from the juice bar. I went with what she told me and everything was really good. Then I asked in my bad Korean, “Do you have a boyfriend?” She laughed at me. “What are you trying to say?”And I said, “guess I need lessons more, or the guys are having one over on me.” She leaned in and whispered, “you. And his glances and comments were turning me on something wicked. The wine waiter was particularly attentive which led to smirks between Brad and me every time our glasses were filled. Poor Claudia didn’t know where to look or how to take some of our comments. So when we called for the check Brad left her a large tip telling her it was our thanks for her putting up with a silly but happily married couple. She beamed perhaps at the money but more I think at our love for each other. ‘Well honey,’.
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