HAUNTED HOUSE

THE HAUNTED HOUSE It was the house, which everyone, in the community knew. As for the reason for the chain-link fence, topped by barbed wire, that was easy enough, to explain. Since the house was, allegedly, "haunted" by a one-time owner, the property had been nearly impossible to sell. In fact, the last three, renters, all ran from the house, in the middle of the night. Each was found by a police car, on rounds, and each had stated that they had been ordered off of the property, by some man, in a historical suit, and waiving a cross, like a weapon. The barbed wire fence had been erected after another legend was found to be true. This legend, however, was no ghost story. For years, it had been a Halloween ritual that virgin maidens, who wanted to be seduced, would enter the house, with boys, have sex, in the middle of the night, then leave behind used condoms. The legend might have remained that, except that three, seperate, couples had been dumb enough to fall asleep, in the house, only to be found by police. Result, the barbed wire had been put in place. This meant that further trespass would be treated as a crime. Still, local women had thrilled to the stories, of losing virginity, inside the creaky old house. No less than three women stated that "While my man and I were in the one room, I swear I heard foot-steps, in the other rooms." The normal excuse was "He was trying to scare you, to get more. It was just some of the guys." Still, when two of the women asked the guys about the Halloween stunt, all had said "We were at the party, at Joe's place. By the way, do NOT tell anyone that we put on make-up." As for Diane and I, we were more of "Show Me", type people. While Diane was no voyeur, anytime a man said he could "get it up" more than five times, Diane would say "Prove it." This is why very few people made boasts around Diane. She was first in line to say "Prove it." I guess that, in a way, this made us similar. Especially in regards to that house. When people began talking, of seeing lights/candles, in the windows, and "human" figures, moving about, police only checked a few reports. This, since no evidence was found. The gate was secure, and no helicopters were reported, in the area. The night, that Diane and I staked out the house, it was due to a ridiculous report, that some man was in the house, carving up children, like a butcher. While we had, each, made seperate plans, it seems we, both, chose the best vantage point, for the abandoned property. With a bit if whispered negotiation, I had Diane decide to help me keep watch. Boy, was Diane better prepared, then I was. About the only thing she did not bring was a port-a-pot. Now, Diane and I are not either close, or even friends. We just happen to know the same people. This is why I knew we would keep focused on the house. Funny thing was, neither of us told anyone where we would be. We just left notes for "In Case Of Emergency". We, both, waited until after dark, to approach, then, nearly, fell over one another. With a truce, we set up "camp", and began watching the house. While rumor said that the figure was spotted in the same window, each time, Diane and I took up a position, where we could see two sides, of the house, as well as the drive. While even the "Witching Hour" passed, without incident, it was at about 01:45 when first a candle was seen, floating, then a figure was seen, walking the second floor. When I asked Diane "Do you recognize him?" She would say "I have seen him, somewhere, before. I just cannot place it." While we, also, heard sounds, of rustling, Diane identified the voices, even as someone whispered "Not so loud. Want them to hear us." At 02:30, Diane and I almost laughed when someone activated what sounded like a sound-track, of scarry sounds. We chuckled as a non-existant wolf bayed at the moonless sky. The idiots, behind the sound, did not even look to see if the moon was overhead. At 03:00, Diane and I moved as close as we dared, to the fence, for a better look at the trespasser. This while Diane whispered "I am sure that I know him. I just dont know from where." At 04:00, we retreated to a tarp cover, that Diane had brought along. Originally meant to camoflauge the camp, from sight, it turned out to be water-proofed. Between 04:00 and 04:45, the rain fell, lightly, and we used a flameless heater, to keep warm. I have to admit that Diane was correct. Even in light rain, the house seemed to take on an "aire". Like "Something Sinister This Way Comes". Aside from candles, forms, and the man, however, nothing happened that night. I was, however, delighted when Diane did, come morning, suggest "How about some breakfast." While we saw the early morning people, looking as bright as the new day, they saw how tired we looked. In fact, I dont even remember hearing her un-locking her door. As she had me place the gear in its place, Diane fixed what I never dreamed she would. The plates, of eggs, laced with cheese, and onion, as well as plates, full of hashbrowns, and sausages, were on the table. Diane would say "I know. Everyone thinks I eat only microwave dinners." While I remember eating the delicious food, what I dont remember is falling asleep. It was noon before Diane shook me saying "Come on, sleepy-head. We have a report to make." When I asked "What report? Floating candles, shadows, an un-known man, and some whacked sound-track? You want to report this?" Diane would say "I want the police to I.D. the trespasser." We listed the man as unknown, before we entered city hall, for the police station. It was inside city hall where Diane had asked "Who is that man?" When the desk officer looked behind himself, at an oil portrait, on the wall, and would ask "Dont you remember, from high school?" When Diane would ask "Remember what?" The officer would say "That is the man who founded this area. He even built that old house. The one the kids like to trespass at." When Diane would ask "How old is he?" The officer would say "IF he were alive, today, he would be near to 180-190 years old. Remember? He died, maybe 100, to 120 years ago." While a detective took our report, they said "This clears up a couple of things. We DID get a call, about some wild dogs. Also, a report of trespass. We think someone was casing some homes, last night." When the detective would ask "BY the way..." Diane would say "Yes, we were on stake-out. We wanted to find out if the rumors, of child-butchering were true. That is why we thought you should know that some one is in that house, impersonating the old man." The detective would say "The ONLY reason why I am not locking the two of you up is because you have given us solid leads. Now, go home, and forget that property." That night, the last thing I remember, after taking nightly drugs, was slipping into my briefs, and socks, then entering bed. Before falling asleep, I recall looking out my window, at the partly cloudy sky, and fantasizing about what it would be like, to kiss Diane. At her place, Diane would strip to her panties, and socks, then enter her own bed. She did not know why but she looked out the window, at the partly cloudy sky. She would slip off, to sleep, amused by the thought of kissing me. While the soft patter, of rain, would help her continue to sleep, it would be a crash, of thunder, which awakened Diane. At first, she did not mind, since she had no job to go to, but then she looked around her. This is when she knew she was dreaming. This was NOT her bedroom. She might have fallen back to sleep, but only until she wondered why her bed felt different. It was not until she sat up, more-or-less awake, that she realized that her, current, bed was of a different shape. It was not until she looked at the "bed", that she realized that, while her bed was flat, this one was curved. When she looked at her window, she wondered "WHO changed my window pane from regular glass, to stained glass?" As Diane began looking about, in what she realized was the upstairs, of a large house, I, too, would awaken, to the sound of thunder. As to whose idea it was to place me on the hard floor, of an entry foyer, wearing only my briefs, and socks, well, I would take that up, with them, when I found them. One thing I was certain of, and that was that I was, definitely, NOT at home. The ONLY reason why I was fairly certain, of where I was located was because, with the recent reports, of child mutilation, I thought it wise to review the buildings blue-prints. This way, IF I caught a person dragging a child into the house, they could not escape me. This is why I knew that a door lead to the remains of the kitchen. Talk about "out-of-date". This place was old enough to make Alexander Graham Bell's original telephone, seem brand new. The dust, and dirt, were thick enough to write names in. When I thought that I heard a sound, I grabbed the heaviest skillet that I could, and got ready to swing at whomever stepped through the door. It was not until I saw Diane, and we spooked one another, that she asked "Where are we?" I told her "Wild guess, but I believe that we are, now, INSIDE the house." When Diane would ask "The "haunted" house? How can that be?" I told her "I have no idea. All I know is that this is the way the blue-prints are laid out." Now, of course, when she asked why I brought her to the house, I could see my carrying her 120 pound body to the house. The question was "WHO had carried my 200 pound bulk to the house." Better yet, WHY? While a brief search, of the downstairs, verified that no one was present, on the second floor, Diane suggested "Careful, the next door, on your right is the room where I woke up." While a more thorough search, of the second floor, yielded no clues, the soft patter, of rain, made the place seem less ominous. It was not until I asked "Before you awoke, here, what is your last memory?" Diane would no-sooner say "I was ready for bed, looked out the window, then fell asleep." When I asked "Do you, always, sleep, in panties, and socks?" This is when Diane realized how little she wore. While she looked for something to cover her body with, she asked me "Do you, always, just wear briefs, and socks, to bed?" I told her "When I sleep alone." Our, joint, search, turned up no blankets. Just rugs. This is when my belly began to grumble and Diane said "You cant be serious. We are inside a vacant house, and you are hungry?" I would say "I am human. So shoot me." This is when, as we looked about, we saw a light, which we had not seen, before. It was visible, under the kitchen door, and Diane saw it, first. When she mentioned "I thought you said this place has no electricity." I told her "It was turned off, after the last tenants fled. Besides, that is not electric light." As I approached the kitchen door, I began smelling what smelled like home cooking. Still, I was cautious when I opened the door. The scene, before me, baffled me, into silence. When Diane said "I thought we checked this room." I told her "We did. It was covered in dust, and dirt." Yet, there, before us, stood an immaculate, and very clean, kitchen, with two place settings, and food. While Diane would not admit it, she was just as hungry as I was. Still, she asked "How", and "WHY". When we examined the food, on the plates, we found it as real as our hunger. When Diane asked "What do you think?" I suggested "Caution. I suggest that we keep a close eye, on one another, during this "meal". If either of us see's anything weird..." Diane would say "You mean, like choking", I would say "...We stop eating immediately." While the cooked food proved that we were not alone, Diane asked "When do you think they will show themselves." I suggested "Once they think we are frightened enough." Once plates were empty, Diane just instinctively placed the plates in the sink, and ran rinse water over them. Only once she told me "Dishes are soaking." Did I ask "There is running water?" This is when Diane asked "Yes, but HOW?" Leaving the kitchen, we took another look, around the downstairs. This, even as the light rain, and thunder, sounded against the house. Diane did cringe a bit, and snuggled up to me "for warmth". That is, until we saw another, flickering, light. This time, from the reading room. When Diane asked "What...?" I quieted her, then opened the door, hoping to catch the perpetrators in the act. Instead, what I found was a roaring fire, in the fireplace. While Diane said "Good, something warm." she saw my look and asked "What is it?" When I reminded her "We were in here, just about an hour ago. There was no fire." When Diane asked "Who cares?" I told her "I think that we should." Funny thing was that, when Diane said "I will get us some answers", then based on instinct, alone, reached for a mobile, which was not there. I would remind her "Neither of us wore a phone to bed." This is when Diane remembered that her phone was at home, on a charger. That call, to her sister, had taken longer than anticipated. The phone was charging. When I suggested "We search the house, again." Diane stood, just as defiant as she had the day when a man would not take NO for an answer. His mistake had been showing her his shaft. This, while saying "You KNOW you want it." Dianes reply had been decisive. She had launched her knee, into his crotch, with enough power that he fell to the ground, even while letting out a sound of pain. This is why I had decided to keep my distance. Still, Diane had been correct. HOW could we investigate the house, properly, in just our underwear? I suggested "We take different rooms. If you find clothes, old or new, let me know." Diane smiled as she said "You do the same." While Diane DID find some clothes, inside a closet, which we had checked, earlier, and found empty, she just wasn't so "hip", on the fashion. A high collared dress, which looked directly out of a 19th century movie. When she called to me, saying "Found some clothes", I joined her, only to take a look at the mens "fashion". Diane would smile as she said "You think THAT is out of date, look at this." Diane was right. All that showed was her neck, and head. As for the mens clothes, the man, who wore them, must have been about twice my weight. The clothes sagged on my body. When Diane sighed, saying "I wish I had my phone." I would agree. "I, also, wish the rain would let up". Diane would say "I dont know about you, but I am willing to take my chances, now that I am dressed." When we returned to the front door, we found what neither of us suspected. How could a homes front door be locked, from OUTSIDE? Diane had said "Simple. A window." While most were either jammed, or locked shut, we did find a window which did open. When I opened it, Diane would say "I cannot fit that opening. Not in this dress." This is when I suggested "Remove the dress, crawl out, I hand you the dress, and you stand under cover, and dress." Diane seemed to like the plan, but, for some reason, Mother Nature did not. As I prepared to boost Diane out of the window, the storm began to ROAR, like an enraged animal. Rain "poured" in, through the window, even as wind gusts pushed Diane back. This is when I would draw the conclusion of "I think someone wants us here." When Diane would ask "You think?" I would ask "I wonder why?" Diane would say "I have no clue, except for the fact that I am due, at a meeting, and there will be "Hell, to pay" if I am not there." Yes, Diane was on Probation. This since a combination of lab tests, and a nickel bag, found in her car, had lead to two years in jail, and a term of probation. Diane had only served six months when the warden applied for "Early Release", saying "We need beds for REAL criminals". The only monthly meeting, which Diane had missed, so far, was the one when she was in the E.R., being treated. Her mother had called the Parole Officer, with Dianes position. Diane was cleared, of "violation" once the doctors told the P.O. "It can happen to anyone." Now, Diane was in an unknown location, without her phone, and no way to prove that she could not make the meeting. I would not be missed for another 60 hours. This would be for an appointment, not for Probation, but for a status update. (Diane just HOPED her P.O. was as "dogged" as his reputation) Word, on the street, was that the man got the worst cases since, when a parolee jumped, the man did not stop until the offender was located, and returned to prison. Sure enough, when Diane missed her appointment, and the P.O. found out that her family did not know where she was, the Parole Officer had activated her phone GPS. This said she was at home. While the landlord told both Dianes family, and the P.O. "She came in, yesterday, and hasn't left. She may be sleeping late". Inside the unit, everyone found the phone, on charger, and the last call made. Dianes sister verified that she had spoken to her sister, the last evening. When the P.O.say "I have to declare her a "jumper", her family would say "Just wait one minute. HOW do you KNOW she left on her own?" The P.O. would say "It does not matter what I believe. She is not here, or at my office." When the P.O. showed the family the door, saying "See, no signs of forced entry." Dianes father would ask "You know. All of her clothes are here. Why would she leave, without clothes?" When the P.O. would say "I will check." This is when Dianes mother would ask "Would you put out a Missing Person instead of that other thing?" The P.O. say "Sure". Dianes sister would, soon, overhear the P.O. saying "I am not certain of anything. This is the first time she is un-accounted for." then add "Dont give me that. We, both, know that people have been kidnapped, for ransom. I want PROOF before I convict her, and send her back to prison." Funny thing was that, by the time Dianes sister got around to checking with the local library, about missing persons cases, she found the P.O. already going over them. As the P.O. would say: "Its weird. I never knew there were so many cases, even in this locality." When the sister asked, the P.O. would say "These records appear to show that almost fifty people have vanished, the same way your sister did." When the sister would ask "Is that un-usual?" The P.O. would say "Lets say it is beyond suspicious". When the sister asked "Whats the next step? My sister is, already, listed as missing." The P.O. say "If the person, who took her, follows established methodology, they will keep her some place near. They would not want to risk being SEEN with her. Question is: Where would be remote enough, so that no one would think to look?" This would lead to a one month search, of every, abandoned, and remote, site, in the county. Sites were even double-checked, just in case. While searchers looked for us, around the area, Diane and I would do the same, from inside the house. While there was no electricity, candles seemed to "appear", at sun-down, even as fireplaces were lit. Food was ready, when we needed it. Diane had even cut a few of the dresses to current styles. (What would have seemed downright indescent in the old days) While this place was old enough to even have what was called a "Widows walk", on the roof, when I tried the hatch, to see if we could climb down the side of the house, I found out that the hatch was SEALED shut. One evening, as we snuggled, Diane whispered "Options?" I would say "Nice to hear you use such words." Diane would ask "Is there any place we have not tried?" I would whisper "Only the basement". When she would ask, I would say "These homes, normally have a rubble-stone foundation. Maybe eight, to twelve feet deep." When Diane would suggest "On a concrete foundation, I would guess." I would suggest "No, normally built on the ground." When we checked the basement, we found a dirt floor, with the utilities balanced on packing crates. I would whisper, to Diane "That was their version of a concrete footing." While Diane and I made tools out of anything we could find, for four, straight, days, we swore that we dug out atleast eight feet, beyond the house, before resting. Each time we returned, the hole was filled. This is why, on days five, and six, we dug, around the clock, out of the basement, then to the surface. When Diane smiled, saying "We made it." I made her smile, saying "Even covered in soil, you look good." The search had been going on, for a solid month, with no results. Not, atleast until some woman, among the searchers, would hear the team leader saying "We have searched everywhere." The woman would cut in, saying "Not everywhere." When the men looked at her, the woman would say "What about the old, haunted, house?" The men would say "Police checked that, two weeks ago. The locks are fine." When the woman would suggest "Locks can be picked. What if someone took them in, then locked back up?" The men would laugh, asking "Who would go to all of that trouble, just to make a person vanish?" Another man would ask "Dont you mean BOTH of them?" This is when the team leaders remembered that my name had been added, when I missed my own meeting, and was nowhere to be found. When the team leader would say "Fine, check the old place. Wont find anything there. Lady, take just three men, with you. We dont want to make a laughing stock out of the whole community." What struck Diane and I as unusual was how, after we surfaced, and began walking, Diane paced the distance, then asked "Shouldn't we have run into the perimeter fence, by now?" I would say "You are right. What happened to it?" We found out, when we found the city. Diane and I wondered if we had walked in the wrong direction. The streets had 1940's vintage cars (in amazingly good shape). We would have reported in, to the police, except that Diand spotted a young man, who bore an incredible resemblance to the current police chief. This man, however, was in his early twenties, firm of build, and with NO paunch. While we found a family, offering to take us in, since we were, obviously, filthy of clothes, and skin, Diane let it slip, during dinner, where she lived. It was after a delicious dinner that the husband took us outside, and asked "Okay WHO are you?" When Diane gave her name, and address, the man would ask "Who do you think you are kidding?" When I asked "Why?" The man would say "That area is not scheduled, to begin development, for another two years. Where are you, REALLY from?" I would suggest the name of the nearest town, saying "We are travelling under assumed names. Our parents dont like us cavorting." Diane wanted to slap me, since she understood what I meant, but she went along, even as the man would say "You are welcome to stay the night." I would spend the night in the den, sleeping on a couch, while Diane was bedded with the families daughters. This, with a warning, from the mother "Young lady. Keep Careful. Gentlemen do NOT go around, covered in dirt. Pray, to the Lord, that this man will not hurt you." Diane thought "If you only knew." What we knew was that we went to sleep, inside a very friendly family home, yet woke where we never expected. Diane found herself waking, on her couch, while I awakened in a corner of my bedroom. It was not until we saw our cell-phones, and other electronics, that we realized that we were back home. HOW? We did not wait for the news, but went straight to the police. This is when we found out how long we had been gone. While Diane and I stayed with our story (strange as it was), the police, and community, had a different theory. The idea that "pretend friends" were, really lovers, and that we had "gotten caught", by a positive pregnancy test. We had left town, to "take care of it", then returned to town, with a story, about the old house. When Diane agreed to be tested, the test showed no signs, at all. This left the "impossible to deny" story, that we had just "taken off" for a few weeks, of romance. The city had us as lovers, in no time. No one believed the tale, that the house had "grabbed us". No, we went there for some fun. Diane would smile as she said "They call that fun?" When I looked puzzled, Diane would say "Women work hard to make men feel comfortable. This is why we choose men, carefully. Your satisfaction is a womans JOB." When I would say "Wait one minute. Are you saying that women dont enjoy themselves?" Diane would just shrug her shoulders. When her next five date choices, all, asked about me, Diane walked out, thinking of ways to make people understand. We had NOT. We did NOT. Finally, she "landed" at my place, where she asked "What do we do?" I would tell her "I have no idea." The next day, when we walked to the old house, Diane would ask "Who do you think COULD have carried it off?" I would say "The clothes, food, and locked exits, would be easy. What puzzles me is how we got out, in the late 1940's." Diane would add "How did we get from the 1940's, back to today." When I would suggest "Sounds like "Back to the Future", doesn't it." Diane would say "Only, you are neither Marty McFly, nor Michael J. Fox." I would whisper "You are no Lea Thompson, either." Still, no one had any idea of how the security fence had been overcome. Our clothes had not been torn. There were no remnants, on the fence. What had been the point? Why take two people from their beds, and use them as trespassers. Why provide food, and ancient clothing? HOW had we been sent back to the 1940's? Was the house truly "haunted"? If so, WHY choose us?

HAUNTED HOUSE (?)

THE HAUNTED HOUSE It was the house, which everyone, in the county knew. As for the reason for the chain-link fence, topped by barbed wire, that was easy enough, to explain. Since the house was, allegedly, "haunted" by a one-time owner, the property had been nearly impossible to sell. In fact, the last three, renters, all ran from the house, in the middle of the night. Each was found by a police car, on rounds, and each had stated that they had been ordered off of the property, by some man, in a historical suit, and waiving a cross, like a weapon. The barbed wire fence had been erected after another legend was found to be true. This legend, however, was no ghost story. For years, it had been a Halloween ritual that virgin maidens, who wanted to be seduced, would enter the house, with boys, have sex, in the middle of the night, then leave behind used condoms. The legend might have remained that, except that three, seperate, couples had been dumb enough to fall asleep, in the house, only to be found by police. Result, the barbed wire had ben put in place. This meant that further trespass would be treated as a crime. Still, local women had thrilled to the stories, of losing virginity, inside the creaky old house. No less than three women stated that "While my man and I were in the one room, I swear I heard foot-steps, in the other rooms." The normal excuse was "He was trying to scare you, to get more. It was just some of the guys." Still, when two of the women asked the guys about the Halloween stunt, all had said "We were at the party, at Joe's place. By the way, do NOT tell anyone that we put on make-up." As for Diane and I, we were more of "Show Me", type people. While Diane was no voyeur, anytime a man said he could "get it up" more than five times, Diane would say "Prove it." This is why very few people made boasts around Diane. She was first in line to say "Prove it." I guess that, in a way, this made us similar. Especially in regards to that house. When people began talking, of seeing lights/candles, in the windows, and "human" figures, moving about, police only checked a few reports. This, since no evidence was found. The gate was secure, and no helicopters were reported, in the area. The night, that Diane and I staked out the house, it was due to a ridiculous report, that some man was in the house, carving up children, like a butcher. While we had, each, made seperate plans, it seems we, both, chose the best vantage point, for the abandoned property. With a bit if whispered negotiation, I had Diane decide to help me keep watch. Boy, was Diane better prepared, then I was. About the only thing she did not bring was a port-a-pot. Now, Diane and I are not either close, or even friends. We just happen to know the same people. This is why I knew we would keep focused on the house. Funny thing was, neither of us told anyone where we would be. We just left notes for "In Case Of Emergency". We, both, waited until after dark, to approach, then, nearly, fell over one another. With a truce, we set up "camp", and began watching the house. While rumor said that the figure was spotted in the same window, each time, Diane and I took up a position, where we could see two sides, of the house, as well as the drive. While even the "Witching Hour" passed, without incident, it was at about 01:45 when first a candle was seen, floating, then a figure was seen, walking the second floor. When I asked Diane "Do you recognize him?" She would say "I have seen him, somewhere, before. I just cannot place it." While we, also, heard sounds, of rustling, Diane identified the voices, even as someone whispered "Not so loud. Want them to hear us." At 02:30, Diane and I almost laughed when someone activated what sounded like a sound-track, of scarry sounds. We chuckled as a non-existant wolf bayed at the moon. The idiots, behind the sound, did not even look to see if the moon was overhead. At 03:00, Diane and I moved as close as we dared, for a better look at the trespasser. This while Diane whispered "I am sure that I know him. I just dont know from where." At 04:00, we retreated to a tarp cover, that Diane had brought along. Originally meant to camoflauge the camp, from sight, it turned out to be water-proofed. Between 04:00 and 04:45, the rain fell, lightly, and we used a flameless heater, to keep warm. I have to admit that Diane was correct. Even in light rain, the house seemed to take on an "aire". Like "Something Spooky This Way Comes". Aside from candles, forms, nd the man, however, nothing happened that night. I was, however, delighted when Diane did, come morning, suggest "How about some breakfast." While we saw the early morning people, looking as bright as the new day, they saw how tired we looked. In fact, I dont even remember hearing her un-locking her door. As she had me place the geaar in its place, Diane fixed what I never dreamed she would. The plates, of eggs, laced with cheese, and onion, as well as plates, full of hashbrowns, and sausages, were on the table. Diane would say "I know. Everyone thinks I eat only microwave dinners." While I remember eating the delicious food, what I dont remember is falling asleep. It was noon before Diane shook me saying "Come on, sleepy-head. We have a report to make." When I asked "What report? Floating candles, shadows, an un-known man, and some whacked sound-track? You want to report this?" Diane would say "I want the police to I.D. the trespasser." We listed the man as unknown, before we entered city hall, for the police station. It was inside city hall where Diane had asked "Who is that man?" When the desk officer would ask "Dont you remember, from high school?" When Diane would ask "Remember what?" The officer would say "That is the man who founded this area. He even built that old house. The one the kids like to trespass at." When Diane would ask "How old is he?" The officer would say "IF he were alive, today, he would be near to 160 years old. Remember? He died, maybe 50 years ago." While a detective took our report, they said "This clears up a couple of things. We DID get a call, about some wild dogs. Also, a report of trespass. We think someone was casing some homes, last night." When the detective would ask "BY the way..." Diane would say "Yes, we were on stake-out. We wanted to find out if the rumors, of child-butchering were true. That is why we thought you should know that some one is in that house, impersonating the old man." The detective would say "The ONLY reason why I am not locking the two of you up is because you have given us solid leads. Now, go home, and forget that property." That night, the last thing I remember, after taking nightly drugs, was slipping into my briefs, and socks, then entering bed. Before falling asleep, I recall looking out, at the partly cloudy sky, and fantasizing about what it would be like, to kiss Diane. At her place, Diane would strip to her panties, and socks, then enter her own bed. She did not know why but she looked out the window, at the partly cloudy sky. She would slip off, to sleep, amused by the thought of kissing me. While the soft patter, of rain, would help her continue to sleep, it would be a crash, of thunder, which awakened Diane. At first, she did not mind, since she had no job to go to, but then she looked around her. This is when she knew she was dreaming. This was NOT her bedroom. She might have fallen back to sleep, but only until she wondered why her bed felt different. It was not until she sat up, more-or-less awake, that she realized that her, current, bed was of a different shape. It was not until she looked at the "bed", that she realized that, while her bed was flat, this one was curved. When she looked at her window, she wondered "WHO changed my window pane from regular glass, to art glass?" As Diane began looking about, in what she realized was the upstairs, of a large house, I, too, would awaken, to the sound of thunder. As to whose idea it was to place me on the hard floor, of an entry foyer, wearing only my briefs, and socks, well, I would take that up, with them, when I found them. One thing I was certain of, and that was that I was, definitely, NOT at home. The ONLY reason why I was fairly certain, of where I was located was because, with the recent reports, of child mutilation, I thought it wise to review the buildings blue-prints. This way, IF I caught a person dragging a child into the house, they could not escape me. This is why I knew that a door lead to the remains of the kitchen. Talk about "out-of-date". This place was old enough to make Alexander Graham Bell's original telephone, seem brand new. The dust, and dirt, were thick enough to write names in. When I thought that I heard a sound, I grabbed the heaviest skillet that I could, and got ready to swing at whomever stepped through the door. It was not until I saw Diane, and we spooked one another, that she asked "Where are we?" I told her "Wild guess, but I believe that we are, now, INSIDE the house." When Diane would ask "The "haunted" house? How can that be?" I told her "I have no idea. All I know is that this is the way the blue-prints are laid out." Now, of course, when she asked why I brought her to the house, I could see my carrying her 120 pound body to the house. The question was "WHO had carried my 200 pound bulk to the house." Better yet, WHY? While a brief search, of the downstairs, verified that no one was present, Diane suggested "Careful, the next door, on your right is the room where I woke up." While a more thorough search, of the second floor, yielded no clues, the soft patter, of rain, made the place seem less ominous. It was not until I asked "Before you awoke, here, what is your last memory?" Diane would no-sooner say "I was ready for bed, looked out the window, then fell asleep." When I asked "Do you, always, sleep, in panties, and socks?" This is when Diane realized how little she wore. While she looked for something to cover her body with, she asked me "Do you, always, just wear briefs, and socks, to bed?" I told her "When I sleep alone." Our, joint, search, turned up no blankets. Just rugs. This is when my belly began to grumble and Diane said "You cant be serious. We are inside a vacant house, and you are hungry?" I would say "I am human. So shoot me." This is when, as we looked about, we saw a light, which we had not seen, before. It was visible, under the kitchen door, and Diane saw it, first. When she mentioned "I thought you said this place has no electricity." I told her "It was turned off, after the last tenants fled. Besides, that is not electric light." As I approached the kitchen door, I began smelling what smelled like home cooking. Still, I was cautious when I opened the door. The scene, before me, baffled me, into silence. When Diane said "I thought we checked this room." I told her "We did. It was covered in dust, and dirt." Yet, there, before us, stood an immaculate, and very clean, kitchen, with two place settings, and food. While Diane would not admit it, she was just as hungry as I was. Still, she asked "How", and "WHY". When we examined the food, on the plates, we found it as real as our hunger. When Diane asked "What do you think?" I suggested "Caution. I suggest that we keep a close eye, on one another, during this "meal". If either of us see's anything weird..." Diane would say "You mean, like choking", I would say "...We stop eating immediately." While the cooked food proved that we were not alone, Diane asked "When do you think they will show themselves." I suggested "Once they think we are frightened enough." Once plates were empty, Diane just instinctively placed the plates in the sink, and ran rinse water over them. Only once she told me "Dishes are soaking." Did I ask "There is running water?" This is when Diane asked "Yes, but HOW?" Leaving the kitchen, we took another look, around the downstairs. This, even as the light rain, and thunder, sounded against the house. Diane did cringe a bit, and snuggled up to me "for warmth". That is, until we saw another, flickering, light. This time, from the reading room. When Diane asked "What...?" I quieted her, then opened the door, hoping to catch the perpetrators in the act. Instead, what I found was a roaring fire, in the fireplace. While Diane said "Good, something warm." she saw my look and asked "What is it?" When I reminded her "We were in here, just about an hour ago. There was no fire." When Diane asked "Who cares?" I told her "I think that we should." Funny thing was that, when Diane said "I will get us some answers", then based on instinct, alone, reached for a mobile, which was not there. I would remind her "Neither of us wore a phone to bed." This is when Diane remembered that her phone waas at home, on a charger. That call, to her sister, had taken longer than anticipated. The phone was charging. When I suggested "We search the house, again." Diane stood, just as defiant as she had the day when a man would not take NO for an answer. His mistake had been showing her his shaft. This, while saying "You KNOW you want it." Dianes reply had been decisive. She had launched her knee, into his crotch, with enough power that he fell to the ground, even while letting out a sound of pain. This is why I had decided to keep my distance. Still, Diane had been correct. HOW could we investigate the house, properly, in just our underwear? I suggested "We take different rooms. If you find clothes, old or new, let me know." Diane smiled as she said "You do the same." While Diane DID find some clothes, inside a closet, which we had checked, earlier, and found empty, she just wasn't so "hip", on the fashion. A high collared dress, which looked directly out of a 19th century movie. When she called to me, saying "Found some clothes", I joined her, only to take a look at the mens "fashion". Diane would smile as she said "You think THAT is out of date, look at this." Diane was right. All that showed her her neck, and head. As for the mens clothes, the man, who wore them, must have been about twice my weight. The clothes sagged on my body. When Diane sighed, saying "I wish I had my phone." I would agree. "I, also, wish the rain would let up". Diane would say "I dont know about you, but I am willing to take my chances, now that I am dressed." When we returned to the front door, we found what neither of us suspected. How could a homes front door be locked, from OUTSIDE? Diane had said "Simple. A window." While most were either jammed, or locked shut, we did find a window which did open. When I opened it, Diane would say "I cannot fit that opening. Not in this dress." This is when I suggested "Remove the dress, crawl out, I hand you the dress, and you stand under cover, and dress." Diane seemed to like the plan, but, for some reason, Mother Nature did not. As I prepared to boost Diane out of the window, the storm began to ROAR, like an enraged animal. Rain "poured" in, through the window, even as wind gusts pushed Diane back. This is when I would draw the conclusion of "I think someone wants us here." When Diane would ask "You think?" I would ask "I wonder why?" Diane would say "I have no clue, except for the fact that I am due, at a meeting, and there will be "Hell, to pay" if I am not there." Yes, Diane was on Probation. This since a combination of lab tests, and a nickel bag, found in her car, had lead to two years in jail, and a term of probation. Diane had only served six months when the warden applied for "Early Release", saying "We need beds for REAL criminals". The only monthly meeting, which Diane had missed, so far, was the one when she was in the E.R., being treated. Her mother had called the Parole Officer, with Dianes position. Diane was cleared, of "violation" once the doctors told the P.O. "It can happen to anyone." Now, Diane was in an unknown location, without her phone, and no way to prove that she could not make the meeting. I would not be missed for another 60 hours. This would be for an appointment, not for Probation, but for a status update. (Diane just HOPED her P.O. was as "dogged" as his reputation) Word, on the street, was that the man got the worst cases since, when a parolee jumped, the man did not stop until the offender was located, and returned to prison. Sure enough, when Diane missed her appointment, and the P.O. found out that her family did not know where she was, the Parole Officer had activated her phone GPS. This said she was at home. While the landlord told both Dianes family, and the P.O. She came in, yesterday, and hasn't left. She may be sleeping late. Inside the unit, everyone found the phone, on charger, and the last call made. Dianes sister verified that she had spoken to her sister, the last evening. When the P.O.say "I have to declare her a "jumper", her family would say "Just wait one minute. HOW do you KNOW she left on her own?" The P.O. would say "It does not matter what I believe. She is not here, or at my office." When the P.O. showed the family the door, saying "See, no signs of forced entry." Dianes father would ask "You know. All of her clothes are here. Why would she leave, without clothes?" When the P.O. would say "I will check." This is when Dianes mother would ask "Would you put out a Missing Person instead of that other thing?" The P.O. say "Sure". Dianes sister would, soon, overhear the P.O. saying "I am not certain of anything. This is the first time she is un-accounted for." then add "Dont give me that. We, both, know that people have been kidnapped, for ransom. I want PROOF before I convict her, and send her back to prison." Funny thing was that, by the time Dianes sister got around to checking with the local library, about missing persons cases, she found the P.O. already going over them. As the P.O. would say: "Its weird. I never knew there were so many cases, even in this locality." When the sister asked, the P.O. would say "These records appear to show that almost fifty people have vanished, the same way your sister did." When the sister would ask "Is that un-usual?" The P.O. would say "Lets say it is beyond suspicious". When the sister asked "Whats the next step? My sister is, already, listed as missing." The P.O. say "If the person, who took her, follows established methodology, they will keep her some place near. They would not want to risk being SEEN with her. Question is: Where would be remote enough, so that no one would think to look?" This would lead to a one month search, of every, abandoned, and remote, site, in the county. Sites wer evern double-checked, just in case. While searches looked for us, around the area, Diane and I would do the same, from inside the house. While there was no electricity, candles seemed to "appear", at sun-down, even as fireplaces were lit. Food was ready, when we needed it. Diane had even cut a few of the dresses to current styles. (What would have seemed downright indescent in the old days) While this place was old enough to even have what was called a "Widows walk", on the roof, when I tried the hatch, to see if we could climb down the side of the house, I found out that the hatch was SEALED shut. One evening, as we snuggled, Diane whispered "Options?" I would say "Nice to hear you use such words." Diane would ask "Is there any place we have not tried?" I would whisper "Only the basement". When she would ask, I would say "These homes, normally have a rubble-stone foundation. Maybe eight, to twelve feet deep." When Diane would suggest "On a concrete foundation, I would guess." I would suggest "No, normally built on the ground." When we checked the basement, we found a dirt floor, with the utilities balanced on packing crates. I would whisper, to Diane "That was their version of a concrete footing." While Diane and I made tools out of anything we could find, for four, straight, days, we swore that we dug out atleast eight feet, beyond the house, before resting. Each time we returned, the hole was filled. This is why, on days five, and six, we dug, around the clock, out of the basement, then to the surface. When Diane smiled, saying "We made it." I made her smile, saying "Even covered in soil, you look good." The search had been going on, for a solid month, with no results. Not, atleast until some woman, among the searchers, would hear the team leader saying "We have searched everywhere." The woman would cut in, saying "Not everywhere." When the men looked at her, the women would say "What about the old, haunted, house?" The men would say "Police checked that, two weeks ago. The locks are fine." When the woman would suggest "Locks can be picked. What if someone took them in, then locked back up?" The men would laugh, asking "Who would go to all of that trouble, just to make a person vanish?" Another man would ask "Dont you mean BOTH of them?" This is when the team leaders remembered that my name had been added, when I missed my own meeting, and was nowhere to be found. When the team leader would say "Fine, check the old place. Wont find anything there. Lady, take just three men, with you. We dont want to make a laughing stock out of the whole community." What struck Diane and I as unusual was how, after we surfaced, and began walking, Diane paced the distance, then asked "Shouldn't we have run into the perimeter fence, by now?" I would say "You are right. What happened to it?" We found out, when we found the city. Diane and I wondered if we had walked in the wrong direction. The streets had 1940's vintage cars (in amazingly good shape). We would have reported in, to the police, except that Diand spotted a young man, who bore an incredible resemblance to the current police chief. This man, however, was in his early twenties, firm of build, and with NO paunch. While we found a family, offering to take us in, since we were, obviously, filthy of clothes, and skin, Diane let it slip, during dinner, where she lived." It was after a delicious dinner that the husband took us outside, and asked "Okay WHO are you?" When Diane gave her name, and address, the man would ask "Who do you think you are kidding?" When I asked "Why?" The man would say "That area is not scheduled, to begin development, for another two years. Where are you, REALLY from?" I would suggest the name of the nearest town, saying "We are travelling undr assumed names. Our parents dont like us cavorting." Diane wanted to slap me, since she understood what I meant, but she went along, even as the man would say "You are welcome to stay the night." I would spend the night in the den, sleeping on a couch, while Diane was bedded with the families daughters. This, with a warning, from the mother "Young lady. Keep Careful. Gentlemen do NOT go around, covered in dirt. Pray, to the Lord, that this man will not hurt you." Diane thought "If you only knew." What we knew was that we went to sleep, inside a very friendly family home, yet woke where we never expected. Diane found herself waking, on her couch, while I awakened in a corner of my bedroom. It was not until we saw our cell-phones, and other electronics, that we realized that we were back home. HOW? We did not wait for the news, but went straight to the police. This is when we found out how long we had been gone. While Diane and I stayed with our story (strange as it was), the police, and community, had a different theory. The idea that "pretend friends" were, really lovers, and that we had "gotten caught", by a positive pregnancy test. We had left town, to "take care of it", then returned to town, with a story, about the old house. When Diane agreed to be tested, the test showed no signs, at all. This left the "impossible to deny" story, that we had just "taken off" for a few weeks, of romance. The city had us as lovers, in no time. No one believed the tale, that the house had "grabbed us". No, we went there for some fun. Diane would smile as she said "They call that fun?" When I looked puzzled, Diane would say "Women work hard to make men feel comfortable. This is why we choose men, carefully. Your satisfaction is a womans JOB." When I would say "Wait one minute. Are you saying that women dont enjoy themselves?" Diane would just shrug her shoulders. When her next five choices, all, asked about me, Diane walked out, thinking of ways to make people understand. We had NOT. We did NOT. Finally, she "landed" at my place, where she asked "What do we do?" I would tell her "I have no idea." The next day, when we walked to the old house, Diane would ask "Who do you think COULD have carried it off?" I would say "Th clothes, food, and locked exits, would be easy. What puzzles me is how we got out, in the late 1940's." Diane would add "How did we get from the 1940's, back to today." When I would suggest "Sounds like "Back to the Future", doesn't it." Diane would say "Only, you are neither Marty McFly, nor Michael J. Fox." I would whisper "You are no Lea Thompson, either." Still, no one had any idea of how the security fence had been overcome. Our clothes had not been torn. There were no remnants, on the fence. What had been the point? Why take two people from their beds, and use them as trespassers. Why provide food, and ancient clothing? HOW had we been sent back to the 1940's? Was the house truly "haunted"? If so, WHY choose us?

FEAR

FEAR Having just read a question, about how fear cripples us, I thought that I would add my own. I must say that, if I have any fear, it is the fear of rejection. Why is that a fear? Simple: While I have known maybe three women, in my life time, who have been actual friends, the problem is that I have known many others, as well. The kind who, instead of a polite "No, thank you." these women SCREAM/SHOUT/YELL at the tops of their lungs "You are NOT a MAN! You dont deserve a woman!" This, they shout so loud that they can be heard, four blocks away. Now, ofcourse, I have had plenty of people, tell me "There are more "fish" in the sea", but I think that the worst fear, which can cripple a man is being friends with a woman, yet wondering "How does she feel?" This, especially when the woman HIDES her emotions, until ready to SCREAM. Having had nearly a dozen women SCREAM/SHOUT/YELL at me, I have learned to keep my distance. Why risk losing a friend, because you hope for what they are NOT offering. That, and one lady, whom I TRIED to get close to, for years. A woman, who never responded, until a friend got in her face, asking "Why dont you respond." The womans response "None of your damned business. If that coward wants to know how I feel, let the COWARD CONFRONT me, himself." This is all the knowledge that I needed to know that the woman was not for me. Not if she demanded a confrontation. Then, there was a woman, for whom I am grateful that a black-out brought us together. Before the black-out, the only time, when I saw the woman was in the presense of her mother. No doubt this is why she was so nice, in her word usage. Then came the night, of the black-out. The very night before I was going to ask her out. During the black-out, I saw her "true colors". Profanity, and all. (Thankfully, I never asked her out.) This is the reason why I think so many women end up in such terrible relationships. It is because, when gentlemen come along, offering affection, kindness, and other qualities, all the women are looking for is "I want someone who is willing to KILL, or fight, to the death, for me! Not some "Romeo", who will give me the love of his heart. I want a man who is willing to TAKE what he wants, by FORCE! This is a REAL man. This is why I need to be able to CONFRONT a man. Make me FORCABLY his woman. If a "man" wont be CONFRONTATIONAL then he is NOT a MAN! This is why true gentlemen live on-line, and in chat-rooms. Places where people are respected. Something which CONFRONTATIONAL women DESPISE!

DAWN CHRIS AND I

Dawn would have thought that her husband, Christopher, was making a joke, until she saw that he was not smiling. Dawn was trying to be a good, dedicated, wife, no matter what. She had married the drunken Christopher, to keep him OUT of prison. The judge had hope that, if a man were married, he was less likely to get into trouble, with the law. While Dawn was on benefits, due to one of those un-seen diseases, Christopher was the opposite. The man was never seen, without a beer in his hand. Dawn was pretty sure that the reason why Christopher set her up, with me, was because I had not done enough, to keep my desire, for her, a secret. What Christopher had not noticed was how Dawn was watching me, with growing appreciation. When Chris spoke of his plan, to his wife, Dawn asked "What about our marriage vows?" Chris had, profanely, told her what she could do, with those. Dawn did blush the day when Chris made the deal, with me. the deal was simple. Since both knew that I was working, with the Biden/Harris administration, Chris offered me all that I wanted, of Dawn, so long as I kept him up-to-date, on changes in the law. While Dawn had the feeling, that I would be "different" from Chris, she had no idea what she was in for. Not just in bed, either. Dawn would learn that my eating habits were like her own. The only difference being that she had begun healthy eating, while still in school. I had begun my healthy lifestyle after my first Asthma attack, when too much weight made my legs hurt. While Chris had told Dawn that I would have up-to-the-minute information, about disability, what Dawn would learn was that I was only updated, when the party was updated. What Dawn did learn was that President Biden had taken my suggestion, for offering state-hood, in return for removing the barrier fence, seriously. The president had, also agreed that turning the wall sections, into an outdoor art gallery, was far more cost-effective, than ripping them to pieces. What Dawn had not been prepared for was the "benefits", of working with the party. Benefits, including receiving not one meal coupon, for meals, but two. While Chris had made it sound like giving me oral was as close as she would get, to a meal, Dawn found herself digging into Whoppers, and foot long subs. By the time Dawn was beginning to wonder why only SMALL sides were included, with meals, I had taken Dawn shopping, at a major, discount, store, where we had bought LARGE quantities, of sides. While Chris had ORDERED Dawn to give me weekly sex, when she found that she LIKED mid-week sex, as well as weekend sex, when she asked, I whispered "I dont hear him complaining, do you?" Dawn had realized that she not only liked me, better, during sex, but she enjoyed my deep, pasionate, kisses, as well. That, and my necking. Dawn just could not put into words, what it was like, having me nursing her breasts. The "price" the party charged, for the food, was my inventiveness. I came up with the cores, of various plans, and let others fine-tune the work. When Dawn saw a shortage of workers, for a variety of jobs, she stepped in, and "took up the slack". This is how she found out that, when the party said "We are working, late, it meant working." On such evenings, Pizza would be ordered in, as well as Garlic Bread, and soda, and beer. Dawn found that, during most of these sessions, the main topic was negotiating compromises, with the Republicans. The G.O.P. was DETERMINED to balance the budget, on the backs of those who had NOTHING. There was even talk, of dismantling HUD, and having all tenants pay 100% of rent, themselves. Dawn was proud when I suggested "Why dont we just remind the media of how much each person receives, in benefits. Not how much the total budget is." Ten days later, at her parents house, Dawn listened to the television, as Democratic leaders tore apart the Republican position, that Social Security was costing America billions of dollars. The Democrats asked the moderator "How much do those billions add up to, when divided by the number of people, receiving services?" When the Republican asserted that "We can NOT look at it, that way. We MUST look at the ENTIRE budget." This is when the moderator had silenced the Republican by saying "We have calculated it down, to the individual. Benefits are only about 25% of the poverty line.." When the Republican had said "In that case, let them WORK for their keep." The Democrat would say "The reason why these people are on benefits is because of restrictions. Either physical, or mental." Dawn smiled, knowing that this evidence had been presented, by my group. This is when Dawn decided that, the next time we were together, she was going to be more my wife, than ever. In order to keep Chris "happy", I did not stay at Dawns place, regularly. Only when we were loving one another. Personally, I dont care what Chris said, about Dawn. To me, his description, that Dawn was "flat all over", and about as romantic a blow up doll, could not have been further from the truth. In fact, Dawn only kept her hair, in a tight bun, around Chris, was because, when she let it down, he enjoyed pulling it, until she cried out. To me, that brown hair, was like a waterfall, of soft, soothing, carresses. I just have no idea where he got that her lips were like "sand-paper". To me, her lips were like silk, and her tongue was... Chris claimed that her neck was so hard, that it might not even break, if hit with a baseball bat. To me, Dawns neck was soft, smooth, fragrant, and delicious. As for her "flat chest", anyone could see her beautiful, "B" cups. Soft, warm and inviting. A perfect "dessert", after any meal. While Chris said that her womanhood was directly out of a science fiction nightmare, I found it appealling. Especially its softness, when I entered her body. Chris said he could never stand more than once, with her. Once. A whole ONCE! Let me just say that, when I had Dawn between the sheets, I took my time, and took all that she was willing to give. To me, Dawn was an "Angel", in every sense of the word. While Dawn and I avoided the party supplied donuts, regularly, we did take part in subs, and pizza. As for Chris. The man "flaunted" his "Non-Prosecution Order", so often that more than a few judges were willing to revoke the document. Now, while even I had considered theft, in order to cover bills, Chris just enjoyed breaking and entering. Un-like most crooks, however, who try NOT to leave evidence behind, Chris was the opposite. While he had ben told that sex, with children, would violate the agreement, in a "flash", Chris took second best. He stole childrens photos, then went to parks, where he did his "private thing", while watching the children play. While Chris never hung around, for the police, he left enough DNA behind, with the discarded pictures, to make identification easy. The police were under orders to "suppress" the reports. These were the times when Dawn felt "un-clean". She even wondered if he would be doing this, IF she were more available. When I reminded her of how he treated her, she said "You are right." One thing was for sure, and that was that Dawn did not EAT, with Chris. In order to save money, for his "wants", his "grocery store" was a local dumpster. This is why Dawn ate, with me, or her family. A place Chris was NOT allowed. It was his own fault, too. I mean, who is dumb enough that, at their own wedding reception, to ask a JUNIOR high school girl to give them oral. When the family heard the girl scream, and found the man, with his standing, proud, in their faces, Dawns father had no-sooner said "Get out", when her brothers were escorting the man from the property. Dawns father had then done something he, almost, never, did. He invoked a rule, stating that, under NO circumstances, was Chris ever to return. What, eventually, got Chris thrown into jail was the Halloween, when he dressed like an angel, to trick pre-teen girls into trusting him. He actually told each girl that "Its just a game." After three girls spoke of the game, concerned parents went to check the story out. Chris was really "going down", on the forth girl, when he was caught, red-handed, on videocamera. The police took the video, and Chris, into custody, even as Chris said "You cant touch me." Two days later, in court, when the video was played back, the judge nearly broke the gavel as they said "Protection order dismissed. You, sir, are headed for prison." Dawn knew that, for ALL of his TALK, Chris was nothing but talk. Once the other inmates knew what he had done, she knew that candy would have a longer life-span. While Chris was doing all of this, Dawn and I were working on projects, such as state-hood, the Berlin Wall art project, Flood Waters Diversion, and other projects. When Dawns mother asked if she would miss Chris, Dawn had trouble, even remembering how LONG it had been since she had sex, with him. When her mother asked "What about your man?" Dawn had slipped and said "Thats easy. Day before yesterday." the Dawn added "You tricked me." Mother would say "Not a trick. An admission." Dawn did admit that, shortly after Chris went to prison, he was found, dead, in the most horrible way possible. Now, Dawn had to find a new man, to marry. Problem was that, working with me left her very LITTLE time, for social activities. Dawn became my "public face", answering the questions, as well as possible. She would be the one to attend catillions, buffets, and country clubs. Like her parents had told her "Girl, you picked a good one, this time. Hold on, tight. He is going places." Dawn KNEW this, just as she knew how much she had enjoyed being an adultress. A husband, who could not care, less, and an illicit lover, who would do anything, for her. Dawn liked such words as "adultress", and "illicit". This is what made her life so full of flavor. Besides, she never encouraged, or consented, to Chris desire, for minors. The only thing she consented to was being my beloved. Since we were, both, adults, it did not matter. The reason why Chris was executed, so ruthlessly, was because his "targets" were minors. From those, who came forward, it was verified that Chris had sex with atleast eight girls, between 12, and 13 years old. If it can be considered a "good", thing, none of the girls ended up pregnant. Chris's, state-approved, funeral would be CLOSED casket. Dawn would snuggle up to me. Since Chris's life, including his school life, had been un-remarkable, there was no need for a grave-side service. His body would be housed in a simple, white, box. Dawn had even declined a donated marker, saying he was not worth it. Chris would be buried a pauper, in an un-marked section, of a graveyard. The only question, that Dawn had was over whether Chris's interpretation, of the "Entity", was "factual". Chris had claimed that, in atleast one version, of the book, the spirit had actually gotten the woman pregnant, three, maybe four, times. The reason why Dawns mother said that was not true was because her sunday book club had reviewed the book, for a sunday sermon, about what spirits, and demons could, and could NOT do. Now, while in the paperback version, which sold, in stores, stated that the victim had pillows pressed into her face, when being attacked, Dawn and I found a modified version, this one, from some "alternative" web-site. The kind of place where books are re-written, for personal tastes. According to the un-authorized version, the attacker showed himself to his victim, and smiled, each time he attacked her. He even got her pregnant, three times, only to laugh as he killed the children, who were just out of infancy. When Dawn would say "I thought that being an adultress was something special." I would remind her "This is just fiction." By the time we cleaned his place out, to get it ready for tenancy, I found his book of codes, for his web-sites. Some of them, even I liked, since they were so-called "Soft" porn. The one, in his "Most Favorite" file, was a web-site, which held a disclaimer "All models are atleast eighteen years old". The models were just made to look twelve, or thirteen. I let Dawn wait outside, while I deleted his membership. Once his place was cleaned out, I know what I promised Dawn for afterwards, but I was glad she let me get a nights rest. After the nights rest, I reminded myself that she was, still, married, until the certificate was filed, so we enjoyed our last couple of days, with her as an adultress. While Dawn went back to her maiden name, when anyone asked her if she were an adultress, she would smile as she said "Yes." When she asked her mother if this was a lie, her mother would say "Not unless you tell them you, currently, are. If they ask about the past, then it is on them." Dawn would let people think what they wanted. She just knew that, with me, it only made the act more enjoyable, to think of her as an adultress. Dawn just never expected that my "political career" would last atleast sixteen years. Eight, under Mr. Biden, then eight, more, under Mrs. Harris. While Chris was forgotten as soon as the ground covered his grave, Dawn enjoyed spending time, with her mother, and sister, working on the scrap books, of my achievements. Yes, I was the reason why the federal flag had gone from fifty stars, to sixty, and now, seventy. While I was the reason why the border wall had become an art exhibit, it had been a baptist church, which had raised the funds, to cover the murals woth plexiglass. While long-term plans were in the works, to restore wet-lands, Dawn smiled at the fact that, until the wet-lands were restored, that I had lobbied for the Flood Waters Diversion project. Now, instead of five cities being drowned, and needing complete re-builds, 35 cities would have dams that just "over-topped" yet never more than storm drains could handle. In fact, the only time when I endorsed Privatization was when communities had problems with city government not taking proper care of parks. I encouraged home-buyers to buy-out sections of the parks. This way, the home-owners could make sure the parks were well-kept. Dawns sister would say "If your man keeps this up, he will have a whole chapter, in the history books." Dawn would smile as she thought about her place, in all of this. She was certain that Chris would be little more than a foot-note, but Dawn could see herself, portrayed (she hoped) as an adultress. Married to one man, while loving another. Just for the record, when Dawn and I were asked to do a sitting, for a portrait, we took part because it was supposed to be used for charity purposes. Turns out, the portrait was to be bid on, alright, but what was being bid on was WHERE to place it. For some reason, a Christian church out-bid all others, for the right to place the painting inside their church. A church at which neither of us was a member. We did not complain since the proceed's DID go to a school fund. By the time Mrs. Harris had served her time, and exited the Executive Office, Dawn would find herself sitting back, and wondering about how life hade gone. With a cup of coffee, she would think back to the day when she agreed to marry Chris, to prevent him from going back to jail. As she thought of the terrible "sex", and even worse "romance", she found herself snuggling up with a blanket. It was not until she remembered how I had romanced her, and so on, that she felt warm, and comfortable. Being in the arms of a man, who LOVED her. She remembered hoping that she could make me happy. Now, with the exception of motherhood, her life was complete. As for what the future would hold, who knows...

THE BUMP THAT NEVER HAPPENED

THE BUMP THAT NEVER HAPPENED This is what the Republican Party had HOPED for, during the final weeks, of Decision 2020. Iriginally, the party had "pinned its hope", on the fact that Mr. Biden, being so close to eighty years old, would be seen, by the American public, as too OLD to hold office. What the party had not counted upon was how hostile the public had become, over such topics as Mr. Trump's demand to repeat the worst FAILURE, of the Soviet, Communist, Party. Namely: The Berlin Wall. Another mistake had been Mr. Trump's Zero Tolerance immigration policy. A policy which, his supporters had THOUGHT meant "beefing up" the border, to prevent more illegals, from crossing, into the United States. It was when the TRUTH, of the policy, that Mr. Trump had ICE rounding up even those, who had been born, and raised, in the United States, to be dragged from homes, schools, and communities, to be dumped into concentration camps, while awaiting deportation, that support, for Zero Tolerance, fell away. As his base, of support, eroded, the Republican Party decided to "side-line" the subjecys, of Zero Tolerance, and the Berlin Wall, by creating something, which was HOPED would scare the public into silence. The Corona (COVID-19) virus. The projection was that having Mr. Trump appearring to manage this situation, would give him atleast a five point boost, over Mr. Biden, did not appear. No, the party needed another way, for Mr. Trump to widen the gap, and secure a second term. This is when the party's computers came up with the idea that, if Mr. Trump turned out to be affected, by COVID, that this SHOULD earn the man a sympathy vote BOOST, of atleast ten, if not twenty, points. Similar to the support which most patients receive, when either seriously ill, or injured, and people make time for visits. The Republican Party agreed to try this, since Mr. Biden was so close, to Mr. Trump, in polling, that the parties were measuring distances, by fractions of a percentage. What the party's computers could not understand was citizen outrage, over Mr. Trumps policies. While the new Berlin Wall was opposed, due to the failure of the previous wall, what really outraged the public, was when Zero Tolerance began dragging people from neighborhoods, that they had known, their whole lives, and forced these people into the concentration camps, as well. People, who had been born, and raised, in the United States. People, who had ROOTS, in American cities. People who had jobs, and standing. ALL were being "dragged away" by ICE. Since the computers could not understand HUMAN behavior, they printed out that, IF Mr. Trump was to be diagnosed, with the same illness, then his "gap", over Mr. Biden would widen, from a fraction, of a point, and to ten, or twenty point lead. With only weeks to go, before the election, Team Trump decided to "roll the dice", on this. The "bump" might have worked, if Mr. Trump had followed the same regulations, as everyone else. The reason why it did NOT work, was because the media reported, both in print, and via photo's, that Mr. Trump refused to wear a mask. Between this, the Berlin Wall, and Zero Tolerence, there was no sympathy for Mr. Trump. A man whom, many considered, had returned the United States to the years of the Civil War (1861-5). Add in the Gestapo-style raids, on American cities, and the dragging away, of people, who had been BORN, in the Unites States, and there would be no "Get Well" cards, for the man. Not from beyond the Republican Party, atleast. In fact, many, follow-up polls were not reported on, especially by the party, since Mr. Trumps presumed "illness" was, in fact, seen as a desperate attempt at a second term. Add in the fact that Mr. Biden did not "capitalize", on the mans condition, but kept his campaign focus on the issues, and the Republicans would go silent, as Mr. Biden did, in fact widen the gap, moving AHEAD of Mr. Trump, by 12 percentage points. While Mr. Trump would TRY to sign an Executive Order, moving the election until after his "recovery", the rules were clear. Since Mr. Trump, and Mr. Pence, were "out of order", for the time being, Nancy Pelosi would be given the position. One, she, hesitantly, accepted. There is much specualation, that Mr. Biden, and Mrs. Harris, aided Ms. Pelosi, since Mr. Biden KNEW how the Executive Office operated, but it would be left, to Ms. Pelosi, to actually SIGN the documents. When Mr. Trump returned to Trump Tower, for "private treatment", there were rumors that the man was, in fact, hiding, until the election was over with. This, while Mr. Biden would address Congress, saying "There remains plenty of work to be done. We should focus on this, and not grabbing power. This Congress has a job to do, and that is to represent the people. Let us remain focused on this, until Election Day." While Mr. Trump remained "sick", on election day, it would turn out that party computers had made a terrible error. Even the mans "illness" did NOT help him, at the polls. Even before election day, enough ballots had been done as Vote-By-Mail, that Mr. Biden had a commanding advantage, of ten votes, for each one, for the "ailing" Trump. BY noon, on election day, the media would report "At this point, there are not enough ballots left, to be cast, for Donald Trump to make a come-back. Mr. Biden IS the President-Elect." Odd thing, however. Once Mr. Trump KNEW that he had LOST re-election, he stormed into party headquaraters, using language which, normally, only street gangs used, and ripped the party, so badly, that security had to escort the man out of the building. While, from Trump Tower, Mr. Trump would refuse to accept the results, any, remaining, staff would box up his belongings, and return these to Trump Tower. There was no ceremonial walk-out, for the first time, in decades. Mr. Trump would watch, furious, as Mr. Biden took the Oath of Office. For weeks, after the inauguration, every one who could, kept as much distance as possible, from the man. Not only did the public have no sympathy, for the man, but neither did his staff. Most waited until he departed the building, then performed job duties, vanishing, upon his return. Melania even took Barron to a "cottage", which Trump International kept. How, while it IS true, that Mr. Trump did throw a party, to "lick his wounds", and that women were, in fact, present, what was never verified were the rumors that Donald had ordered some grade school, and high school, aged girls, for the party. Even Mr. Biden would not accept the rumors, that Mr. Trump was having sex, with eleven year olds. All Mr. Biden would say was "Show me the tapes. If I SEE it, then he is guilty. Until then, it is just a rumor." While the rumors "flew", for about six months, there was no EVIDENCE. No DNA. NO outrawged parents, filing protests. NO pregnancies. This is why the Democratic Party just ignored the rumors. The thought was that, like Stormy Daniels, someone was just looking to cash in, on rumors. Just like that woman who, for a brief time, during the election cycle, had claimed that Mr. Biden had raped her, fifteen years ago. Her claim had dissolved once the media asked "If he raped you, why did you NOT report it, at the time?" The charge vanished, especially one reporter THOUGHT that they found a debt, that they THOUGHT the woman had racked up. Even the sympathy "bump", which she had HOPED for, never materialized. Such is the nature of man. Something which computers will, never, understand. Logic versus emotion. Something which is impossible to quantify.

THE DAY DONALD TRUMP LOST

THE DAY WHEN DONALD TRUMP LOST While Donald Trump gave great speeches, including promising to rid the United States of ALL illegals, as well as promising to put Social Security "dead-beats" to work, ALL sounded wonderful, what no one could comprehend was just how cruel such policies would be, to American communities. While Donald Trump had promised that a new Berlin Wall, would prevent the illegal crossing, of America's southern border, what his followers had declined to ask was "What about those, already here?" When Donald Trump began empowering I.C.E. to break into homes, and businesses, and DRAG Hispanics out, placing them into modern day concentration camps, not one, of his supporters had given a second thought to what would happen to neighbors, and co-workers. When Zero Tolerance began ripping cities apart, Mr. Trumps staff would find themselkves in the "cross-hairs", of a public, which was questioing why second, third, and even forth generation, Hispanics, were being dragged away. Prehaps, one of Mr. Trumps greatest, political, mistakes, was in ripping children away from families. This, while telling the media "It is my hope that, once reunited, south of the border, that families will think, TWICE, about violating America's borders." Mr. Trump HOPED that this would spur enthusiasm both for Zero Tollerance, and for his new Berlin Wall. What Mr. Trump had HOPED that the public had forgotten, was the 28 YEAR, FAILED, history, of the first Berlin Wall. A wall, in Germany, which the Soviets had spent billions of rubles on, yet which could neither keep the wind out, nor the Germans in. As part of Zero Tolerance, Mr. Trump had sent armed soldiers, to the border, with automatic weapons, and tear gas. Mr. Trumps warning, to the people, of the south: "If you dont want to get hurt, DONT challenge our borders" It was when the media showed both photos, and video, of life-long friends, saying "Farewell", as people, who had no idea they were illegal, prepared for transit to concentration camps. The problem, that Team: Trump had not anticipated, was the same problem, which caused Adolf Hitler to em-power the Gestapo, and the S.S., to begin arresting, "interrogating", and executing any German, whom the force felt was not "loyal enough" to Adolf Hitler. While Hitlers plans, and speeches, looked, and sounded, good, just like Mr. Trumps, the one thing neither man counted upon was the "back-lash, when the people began to realize what was, ACTUALLY, going on. While Adolf Hitler gave the S.S. permission to execute anyone, not showing complete loyalty, Team: Trump came up with a more inspireed idea. To SILENCE opposition, to his policies, Mr. Trumps team created a "virus", with which to SCARE his opposition into silence. For some, un-known reason, they chose a form of Asthma, for the airborne pathogen. It would have been a great idea except that Asthma sufferers already KNOW the effects of this disease. This is why, as the "disease" became known, millions would call it a "hoax", based upon first hand knowledge, of Asthma. With Zero Tolerence becoming just as UN-popular as Facism, or Communism, and the public reminding Congress of what a financial DISASTER the first Berlin Wall had been, As for Mr. Trump's plans to FORCE the disabled to "work, for their keep," this fell, as flat as ever. Reason: While many disabled have highly-functioning BRAINS, the problem was that, without functioning LEGS, the peoples "choice, in employment, was restricted. After all, a wheelchair bound person cannot collect trash, or mop floors. As for those, who APPEARRED able-bodied. When the question, of "Why arent they working? They APPEAR fine, to me." care-givers had to report that the people were mentally handicapped. They knew enough to bathe, change clothes, and eat meals, but none were, mentally capable of carrying out job duties. When a few hundred were teted, to prove this were true, the results were not what Team: Trump had hoped for. The people just could not focus on job duties, any more than a kindrgartener focuses on more than playing. When met with these realities, this is, no-doubt why Mr. Trump begin raising BILLIONS of dollars, towards his re-election campaign. He HOPED that, if he out-rasised Mr. Biden, financially, that this would BUY him a second term. Trouble is, in the United States, the rule is "One Voter, one vote". Mr. Trump had only one card left to play. If his team was correct, initiating Vote-By-Mail would have the desired effect, that, maybe, one, out of every 100,000 people would be willing to take the time, to Vote-By-Mail. When this was paired with a plan, to provide a sterile meeting place, for Republicans to vote, his team thought that Mr. Trump stood a real chance of winning re-election. What the team had hoped for, never materialized. The hope, that Vote-By-Mail would complicate voting, to the point where many people would say "Who Cares?", did not materialize. Instead, infuriated Americans began filing ballots, via outside boxes, as soon as permission was granted. Now, Team Trump had to figure out what to do about the statement that Mr. Trump would not confirm that he would agree to an orderly transfer, of power. The original plan, for Vote-By-Mail was to allow the small pile, of votes, to sit, until election day, then be counted, along with regular votes. What Team Trump had not counted upon was the "tidal wave", of early votes. A wave, so enormous, that, by mid-October, a staff, of 100 people, would have to work six days per week, just to keep the pile under control. The hope, for only one vote, out of every 100,000, turned into one vote, for every five people. Voters would turn out, in even greater numbers, than had done so, for Clinton/Gore. While Donald Trump would refuse to even consider a consolation speech, his staff would begin writing one. Donald was so ceratin that he would win, on election day, that he would not even consider defeat. Instead, Mr. Trump would order that every, single, ballot be verified. (This, he claimed, was due to a previous election where the living had used the names, of dead people, to vote.) By election day, there were enough Vote-By-Mail ballots, that it was not even worth opening the polls. Only the most stubborn stood in line, to vote. According to every counting system, known, Mr. Biden received atleast ten votes, for each one, for Mr. Trump. While Mr. Biden showed the respect, not to call the conclusion, until November 3, the results showed that he had won, days earlier. Mr. Trump would move back, to Trump tower, and even reject the ceremonial walk-out. To the media, Mr. Trump repeated Hitlers own, final words "The German/American people have proven themselves un-worthy of my leadership" Now, even as parties were gearing up, across the nation, a few of us stated "Tonight, we celebrate. Tommorrow, we begin the work." Because Donald Trump had, again, acted as a child, abandoning the game, once he realized that he had lost, it would be left to Speaker Nancy Pelosi, to "handle the reigns", until inauguration day. Not that she wanted the job. It was due to seniority. Ms. Pelosi would have to keepCongress in check, until Mr. Biden was sworn in. As to Mr. Pence, he seems to have "vanished, into the woodwork", once the election was called.

DAWN AND HEATHER

DAWN AND HEATHER The reason that Dawn gave Heather, for Dawns not wanting to date me, after our first, was that, as Dawn said it, I was no better than any of her other men. Dawn would say "His head is in the clouds. I need a man, who is down to Earth." This after just one, passionate, date. Dawn, also, did not like the fact that I made her "commit" to the date. She said that I actually looked like I would back away, if she said no. Dawn had ended her "report", to Heather, saying "I can understand why our friends think he is homosexual. He ASKS women for what he wants. Doesn't bully, in any way. I have not net a man, like him." When Heather had asked the ivory woman "Then, WHY did you have sex, with him?" All Dawn would say was "I thought it would help him to open up, more, about his goals." This is why my ebony goddess, Heather decided to check me out, for herself. She wanted to KNOW WHO, adn WHAT, I was. This because Heather, as well, had more than her share, of men. Men, who made all kinds of promises, to get a womans clothes off. It was only after the fact, when Heather asked when the men planned to start work, on their goals, that the man said the same thing, over and over. "When the time is right." What made Heather even more suspicious was the fact that, while Dawn said I was "just another", then WHY has she let me have her body, until I was drained. If she was that sure I was homosexual, then why not stop at one time? Besides, Heather KNEW I had "gifts". In fact, when her friends had told me what they wanted done, I had done what they could, barely imagine. Heather had sen the quality of my work. This is why she used her mail, to bring me to her place. A bit of a decpetion, but better than asking, straight out, if I wanted sex. When Heather got me inside her place, she placed the mail before me, then whispered "I am going to get comfortable. Back in a minute." By the time she got back, in the incredible beauty of her natural state, I lost the ability to talk, until she suggested "You should let it out, before you have an accident." Only then did I realize that my shaft was pounding, hard enough, to rip through my pants. Instead of saying something, insulting like "Oh, my god, you can egt it up." Heather smiled, instead, whispering "I am impressed." She was, further impressed when she sat on my lap, and I gave her a first kiss, which was so deep, and full of passion, that Heather hoped it would go on, just for a few weeks. When our lips parted, and Heather looked into my eyes, she KNEW what my next request would be. That is why she stood up, took my hand, and lead me to her bedroom. Here, she pulled back the cover, and the sheet, then, with the grace, of a ballet dancer, she entered the bed, with me following, with all the grace of a baboon. Heather, soon, discovered why Dawn was so "put out" with me, claiming that "He takes way too long." Heather understood from the moment, when I ran my fingers through her jet hair, and up and down her body. As if that was not enough, Hether lay back, and relaxed, as I went from french-kissing, to necking, then carressing, kissing, and nursing, her "B" cup beautiful breasts. When I reached her womanhood, Heather KNEW what was coming. This is why she placed a pillow over her face. She was right, too. As I feasted, on her, she found herself moaning, audibly, loving every moment. She just could not believe that I feasted until she climaxed. When I came up, from there, she hit me with a pillow, saying "NO fair. I am supposed to do that when we are one." Still, she did not complain, when I nursed her now-throbbing breasts, some more, then, as I slid it into her, I watched her moan, in delight, then, when she smiled, at me, I kissed her, again. Ebony and ivory were together in PERFECT harmony. What surprised Heather was when, after I gave it to her, twice, I put her on top, whispering "I want you to use me, on all the places only women know of." Heather not only understood, but she taught me how to make love to her, with purpose. (To her, and, no doubt, to Dawn, I was too tender, and romantic) When Heather brought us both off, then lay beside me, while I kissed her, she smiled, and I understood. This is why I increased her pleasure, by twenty-fold, as I made love to her the way she wanted to be loved. (The way which made her cover her face, with a pillow, as she cried out, in climax) While both women knew that, after good sex, men need to rest, Heather ws happy that I encouraged her to snuggle to my side, after the act. I even buried my face in her cleavage. Her scent was like pure Heaven. While I rested, Heather went to the livingroom, and called Dawn. When Heather would say "Just called to say thanks." When Dawn asked "For what?" Heather would say "For turning the very best man, that I have had, to date, over to me." Dawn would ask "Youre not..." Heather would say "If he is up to it, I plan to take much MORE, when he recovers." When Dawn asked each, of the next, few questions, Heather did not wait for the full question before saying "He is wonderful. He made me feel wonderful, and thankful, to be a woman." When Dawn would ask "I wonder why..." Heather would say "Simple. You white girls want men to go so fast. Be in control. Get it over with. My man is the opposite of this." Dawn would say "Just wait until you hear him speak of his dreams. That will bring you to your senses." (She could sense Heather smiling, at the thought) After the call, Heather prepared a snack, then set it aside, for when I needed food. She, then, returned to my side, snuggled up, and waited for me to wake up. When I did, my first thought was not of food. It was to look into her smiling face, and kiss her. When she received me, with open arms, I made love to her, twice more, before my stomach got LOUD. With that, a trip, to the kitchen was at hand, and this is when she heard a version of what Dawn had called "The SAME OLD story." Heather noticed the difference, however. When Heather asked, I told her of how, now that Mr. Biden was president, I was advising him on a variety of matters, beginning long before the election, with such topics as Immigration, State-hood, and that stupid, new Berlin Wall. When Heather asked "I have read that the wall sections, already built, will cost millions to destroy." This is when I suggested "This is the reason why I suggested that, instead of destruction, that Mr. Biden turn the panels into an outdoor art gallery." As Heather listened to my plans, she realized that I was not speaking of "When my ship comes in..." I was speaking of the present day. In fact, Heather was so impressed that she listened, instead of eating. When she asked me how long state-hood would take, I reminded her "It took YEARS, to bring the first thirteen together, and forge the new nation. It has been over 200 years, bringing that 13 into the current fifty. It will not happen, overnight. It will only happen with hard work, and reliability." When Heather would say "It sounds like a marriage, to me." I would be dumb enough to say "With the right woman, it CAN be done." Then, something weird happened. I got a massive one, and all Heather had to do was smile, for me to need her bad enough to lay her across a table. She smiled, and held my hand, as she whispered "Love me." I did so with as much compassion as possible. After two more times, we showered, together, then got dressed. It was then that I asked the big ask. "When will I see you, again?" Heather marked off three, consecutive, saturdays, saying "Dont worry, my boyfriend is, never, in town from friday until monday." It only took two saturdays, for Heather to smile and say "I want more." When I suggested "How about wednesday, as well." Her smile spoke volumes. Heather knew plenty of men, including her current, official, boyfriend, and she knew how they talked. It was never WITH Heather. It was more like AT her. This is why Heather began increasing her awareness, of me. She noticed that I talked WITH her. I asked her opinions, both as a woman, and as a Negro. I knew that Heather hated being referred to as a Negro, but, for some matters, race was important. Heather only hated being seen as Negro since her parents had "shoved" the Negro lifestyle "down the childs throat", until Heather came to a point where she hated all things Negro. This is why, beginning with second grade, Heather had not only moved in, with an ivory family, but, after the embarrassing "scene" that her mother made, accusing the school of Racism, for declining to pass Heather to the third grade, Heather had asked her friends Ivory mother to attend "Parent-Teacher talks". This was both good, and bad. The good was that the woman asked the teacher the correct questions, such as "What will Heather have to do, to stay with her age group." The "bad" news was that, once dad heard the news, Heather found her television time cut off, and replaced with study time. In this house, Race only had meaning in regards to government forms. Heather wondered what she loved most. Her moms cooking, or her dads monitoring, of homework. In fact, the ONLY reason why Heather did not graduate high school was that (like most of her class), high school was a time of self-discovery. Add in the fact that the school did not announce testing until the day beforehand. Result, out of a class, of 275, only three students received diploma's. As Heather listened to me discuss my plans, for something called the "Flood Waters" project, she remembered the day when Social Security sent workers to help impaired people to apply for benefits. Heather found the people so LOUD, as they processed applications, that Heather asked for a discreet one-on-one. When I asked Heather (in the present) "What do you think?" She gave me the only answer which would not embarrass her. She said "Sounds good to me." After I departed, Heather remembered talking to Dawn, after our first date. When Dawn asked "Isn't he CREEPY. All that kissing. Sucking..." and indicating her breasts. When Heather smiled and said "I loved it. I hope he gives me even more." Dawn would ask "What about that crap, about being president. Who is going to vote for a wimp, who does NOT TAKE ON women?" Heather would say "You were not listening. Had you been, you would KNOW that he is counseling the president." When Dawn asked "A CREEP like that?" Heather would turn on Dawn, saying "Watch your mother, whitey! That man is going places. I just HOPE to join him." Dawn would walk away, laughing, while saying "You fell for that wimp." Dawn would, soon, find herself "eating" those words, as she, and Heather, watched, as government cars came for me, and the women watched, on television, as I consulted with the president, and members of Congress. When Dawn realized her mistake, Heather found Dawn rubbing herself, as Dawn wondered "I wonder if there is room, in his bed, for a second woman?" Heather would say "Dont bet on it. He is loving, yet loyal." Now, Dawn was stuck with another man. One who did not mind pulling her breasts out, in public, while saying "Stick with me..." This, while Heather was fitted with fashion gowns, and replaced value meals, and prepacked salads, with buffet dining. Like me, yet only in her early twenties, Heather was well aware of how people get out of shape. Too many buffets, and too much booze. Like me, when Heather was offered a membership, at the local YMCA, she took it, and we worked out, together. Her to keep her goddess of a shape. Me, for my back injury. The more muscle that I added to my body, the less strain, on my spine, and the less pain killer I had to take. Heather watched as I brought in designs, for various projects, and refined the details. Heather even volunteered to do my note-taking, when I got into details. While we watched the news, about three, class-3 hurricanes, flooding out river basins, and costing billions, in damage, Heather made noteas about how, eventually, the renewal of the wet-lands would solve the problem. Still, even Heather agreed that a more rapid solution was needed. This is why, with me giving names, of other rivers, she watched as I created the "Flood Waters Diversion" project. Heather even cancelled three dates, with her "boyfriend" to attend community meetings, about my Privatization of local parks plan. It ws about two years into Mr. Bidens first term, when Heather had groups asking her to speak. This began with her family church. A church, whose membership was receiveing information, claiming that the government was cutting off all aid, for struggling families. I gave Heather a set of notes, a dep kiss, then promised "Trust me, my love. You will be fine." To this, Heather had said "Baby, I am your woman. I am supposed to say that, to you." BY the time Heather gave the talk, saying that the option was just "on the table, for discussion", she found herself being asked to give similar talks, to other chruches, groups, and so on. While Heather was busy, here, I was working in parks, picking up trash, and helping repair equipment. Still, our time, apart, only brought us closer, as we spent even more time between the sheets, being so passionate that Heather held out hope that her birth control would fail. Thankfully, by the time Mr. Biden won a second term, by a landslide victory, mixed race couples were as accepted as hamburgers and fries. As a result, no one made any comments about Heather and myself. With the achievement, of adding twelve states, to the union (with another ten awaiting review), Heather thought that my "political life" would end, when Mr. Bidens term ended. She had her life all planned out. With me as her mate, she would birth five children, who would be proud of their fathers accomplishments. She would be an important person, in the lives, of those she created. That WAS the plan, but only until another call came. This time it was the Vice President. It seems that, while Mrs. Harris was a professional politician, and worked Congress well, she wanted me to stay on, for the times when "creative ideas" were needed. Personally, I was not certain that the United States was ready for a female president. While I was stunned, when the V.P. approval rating shot up, with the news that I was staying on, Heather would say "I am not surprised, at all. You are a good man, and an (smile) lover." I had asked Heather, before accepting, and she had told me "It is national business. I can accept being second to the nation." What Heather could not understand was the reason why Dawn took up with such a violent man. A man, who treated motor vehicles, using hammers to force parts together. From what Heather could learn, when the auto repair business suffered a set-back, Dawns man had offered her to his friends, for bill paying money. When Dawn refused, he beat her into compliance. Dawn would go into a shelter, for abused women. An arrest warrant would be issued for her boyfriend. As Heathers mom would remind her "You cant save everyone. If you can keep yourself in good repair, that is all anyone can ask." The time, when Heather almost had a heart attack was the day when she fiound her first, white, hair. When her mom would say "Girl, you are just aging. It happens to all of us." Heather would say "The woman my man fell in love with is dark haired." This is when, to boost Heathers morale, her mom took her to a salon, which tinted Heathers lightening hair back to its jet color. Heather was not about to age. Not until I did not want her, anymore. The woman we, all, laughed at, was Dawn. When grey began replacing her brunette hair, Dawn actually shaved her head, then began wearing brunette wigs. When she asked a doctor how to get her expanding belly back into place, the doctor would say "You are not going to like this but the first thing you need to do is get rid of the booze." When she asked "What else?" The doctor would say "You should exercise, more. I mean MORE!". Still, Dawn did not take the "hint" until her legs began to hurt. When she asked, the doctor said "Your legs are saying you need to exercise, and lose weight." Just as the doctor predicted, once Dawn got to a certain weight, her legs gave out, and she was ordered into therapy. When she saw Heather, looking like a model, in a gown, Dawn asked "You are as old as I am. Why aren't you as big as me?" Heather would say "Simple. I eat right, and exercise." Mrs. Harris was into her second term, in the Oval Office, when the wet-lands began showing real proof, of investment. While many people thought that the wet-lands drew water down, to turn hurricanes into thunderstorms, it seems that the restored wet-lands did much more. It was like the wet-lands served as a shield/barrier, preventing storms from making shore. Storms, now travelling, into the Gulf of Mexico, continued on historical paths, swept across Mexico, and hit the Pacific. As for Mr. Biden, he completed his eight years, in office, and only passed away about four months after his second term ended. I guess that this is why President Harris continued to rely on people like myself. Mavericks, who could not care less about anything except that plans worked. It would be our group who, when the newest space shuttle design began to fail, under pressure, we convinced the president to begin work on a functioning transporter system. By the time the Skunkworks was asked, about the idea, this group already had a team working on the possibility. By the time President Harris was up for re-election, the Skunkworks had presented a time-sheet, of man-power, tools, and material, for the project. The most costly part, of the project, yet totally un-avoidable, was to build another Apollo rocket, to deliver the first load, of supplies to the lunar surface. This rocket would be the most expensive, in American history, since it was not just astornauts, who would be carried. It would be a habitat, as well as the receiving platforms, and the E.R.V. (Earth Return Vehicle) Once the beginnings of Moonbase: Alpha were in place, N.A.S.A., and the European Space Agency would agree that the time windows would not be endless. Transport could only take place twelve, out of every twenty, four hours. These were the only times when transport, and receiveing could lock on. What impressed me was the fact that, by the time Mrs. Harris left office, her hair was just as white as any mans had been. It would not, however, be until my own time came, that Heather would allow her hair to flow its natural white. Once she knew the man, who loved her, was gone, she did not care how people saw her. On the recommendation, of her brothers, and sister's, families, Aunt Heather would move in, with the family. This way, if anyone found her, it would be family. Heather remembered the last dream she would, ever have. The passion, of being held in my loving arms, and being kissed in a way which said "I Love You". The dream was so real, it was like Heather was standing at the foot of our bed, watching me winning her heart. Heather was proud that she had taken that chance. Taken me to her place, and suggested the first move. What amazed her was how, in the dream, something happened, which she did not remember. Her younger self turned to her and said "You were so right. He does love you, so much. I am glad you never let him go." When Heather awakened, and looked in the mirror, she saw the same, aged, face. It was just a dream. Still, Heather made herself up, as well as possible, then sat at her writing desk. Here, she would write her final letter. While Arthritis had fought a losing battle, for years, it was, finally, winning, as her body aged. While writing made her hands hurt, Heather was determined to leave this one, last, message. It was only once complete that Heather felt different. She was certain that she had fallen asleep, again, as she heard my voice saying "I know you. You are strong enough to get up." When she called out my name, I would ask "You were expecting someone else?" When she called "How?" I told her "like this." then took her hand, as she stood up, free of pain. When she asked "How?" I suggested the mirror, on the dresser. When Heather looked into the mirror, the face that looked back was young and beautiful. Taking her hand, I showed her the "how". There, sitting in the seat, was the aging body, slumped over, white hair flowing, like white water. When Heather would ask "I was no saint. Am I worthy?" I would say "If they let me in..." When we walked out of the house, Heather would take one last look at the flag. A flag we had dared to re-invent. A flag, with 110 stars, and broad stripes. There was no more South America. the United States spanned from Canada, to Antarctica. When Heather would ask "What about the future?" She would hear her mothers voice, then see her mom, as the woman said "Worry about yourself for a change." Heather knew her mom was buried in the family plot, next to dad. Full honors. My own service had been a national affair, as digintaries, from around the globe, gathered to give thanks. As for Dawn, seeing as how she spent every cent, of her money, trying to make an elderly body look young, she would be buried, pauper-style, in an un-marked grave. Heather and I would view the scene as, below, her family returned from grocery shopping, to find the body, and the note. As if in a moment, the agony, of grocery shopping, was forgotten as the family stood, frozen, even as her neice read the mesage. To make sure there was not hint of suicixde, the family checked all of the medicine bottles, then the booze cabinet, before calling in the paramedics. The ruling would be "Natural Causes". When Heather would ask "What do we do, now?" I would suggest "We rest. Let the world take care of itself. We set it on the right course."