‘I must touch you!’ She speaks not a word, but extends her arms into his. They dance together, first in her world of higher strains, then down to...his of lower chords, then back again. Around they dance, exploring and touching one another, peering into the other’s range from which the lover has emerged. They revel in the contact of touching and being touched. It is a tender feeling out, probing the potential of each partner to give and receive. The patient ‘andante’ continues unceasing. She. I squatted down, my wet skirt fighting the movement, and saw the tire lying in the mud, almost two feet under the car. I tried to reach it, flailing at the edges. I sighed and dropped my knee into the mud. It found the rocks under the mud causing more wonderful words to escape my throat. I cringed as I shifted my knee and created a semi-unpainful spot to anchor it. One hand on the trunk, I lowered myself, reached under the car and dragged the now muddy tire toward the back. My blouse was. Monday morning she went to work where she discovered pictures circulating in her first class of her naked with dogs , hoses , and masked young men. She also found a note on her desk that explained that unless she wanted the pictures and video to go onto the internet from now on she would come to school dressed in short skirts , shear blouses , no panties or bras. She would also sit on her desk with legs spread open. Anyone that came to her classroom with a dog bone she would bend over her desk. Are you convinced that I'm not Paige?" I posited."Just because you didn't answer my questions? Of course not. Thatproves nothing." I didn't answer anything correctly," I protested . This was going downhillfast."Or, you didn't answer right on purpose to try and convince me that youaren't yourself."Now I really felt like crying again. "There has to be a way to persuadeyou that I'm not Paige. There's just gotta." I had an inspiration. "You like sports! I know a lot more about sportsthan.