Carmichael, the woman from the commissary, is culpable. Like most government employees, she most likely did as she was told and wasn’t curious enoug... to ask questions.I want to ask him why I’m being poisoned. What is he putting in my food? It’s coincidental that the mouse died after eating what I’d given him. I have no evidence. The logical part of my brain tells me that, and reminds me that many chemicals safe for humans are poisonous to animals.It’s too many coincidences, though.He closes his. Mark exhaled and said, “It’s been great for me so far. The company encouraged me to take classes at UCLA and let me run service calls between them. Most of my dispatches were in Westwood, Santa Monica, Century City – you know that area. Now they’re working with me on getting my teaching career started by allowing me to teach night classes at a couple of community colleges. What about you? Do you like doing transcribing?”After exhaling, she passed him back the joint and replied, “I need to build. When I woke up, I had about ten worried texts from Josh asking me if I was okay, where I want, how I got home, and if I was upset at him. Putting on my best “hungover” voice, I called him back. He was freaking out. I explained to him that I was fine, that I got home okay, but that I didn’t remember anything from last night and that it would be better if we never talked about it again. I could hear the disappointment break in his voice when he told me it was totally cool, and that he was really. ” “Then what’s wrong with me?” I asked, rolling over so I was fully on my back, my head resting on Michael’s lap. “Why won’t guys ask me out?” I brought my hands up to my chin. “Is it my boobs? My friends are always saying how much guys love big boobs, and mine are just too small aren’t they?” This time he actually did laugh. “Your breasts are fine. Just enough to fill the hand, they are perfect. Any bigger and I wouldn’t like them so much.” Now I laughed. “You like my breasts? Eww.” I stuck.