Montana didn’t reply. She followed his gaze to the rearview mirror. ‘There’s no one behind us yet, Montana, it all just fucking occurred,’ she...said, her speech slurring slightly at the end. ‘I can’t believe she did that. It was my fucking gun. That fucking idiot!’ Montana spat, spit sprayed against the windshield with the force of his words. There was cause for caustic cursing, Mira supposed. She clasped her seat belt, removed a metal canister and her makeup mirror. ‘Don’t you fucking dare!’. It barely seemed to move at first, then slowly gathered pace as it left the station. Once outside the canopy I could hear the incessant beat of the rain against the roof of the train. Looking through the window, the quickly receding lights of the City of Manchester were streaked and blurred in the streams of water that cascaded down the glass. As the train moved through the suburbs, gathering more and more speed as it went, the drips that had initially funnelled their way vertically down the. I was having a difficult time understanding how this unsophisticated young woman from a small town in the Midwest could have mastered the techniques of sexual prowess, almost overnight, while being in bed with me. She was learning on the fly, so to speak. What else would she come up with to surprise me? I went to bed and tried to think of anyone, anything but her.I awoke the next morning slowly, dreaming of her, naturally. And like most men on most mornings, I awoke with a rock hard woody to go. Dan was lying on his left side, curled slightly, his right arm flopped over his chest. Opening an eye with effort, he saw Dafna just inches away on her side, on the verge of flopping on to her stomach. He scooted closer, moving his pillow along the way. Their bodies lightly touched. He put his right arm on her shoulder, which felt warm and moist. A few more scoots and adjustments and they were spooning, her body cradled against his, his arm slipping down across her stomach to pull her lightly.