I note from one of the comments on the last story by castlestone, that he may have been killed in an accident. I hope that isn’t correct, because it...means a very inventive, witty mind is with us no longer. Before reading this story I recommend that the reader read Sophia Parts 1 to 4 by castlestone. Otherwise this story won’t make a lot of sense. I hope this provides a sense of continuation and regret that I don’t have the sense of humor or the gamma ray desk light that castlestone had. Barbara. During that walk I decided I needed to call Jonah Goldman in Chapel Hill, just to see if I could convince him to talk to me. If I could get him to give me the unofficial cause of death, I would be at least a step or two ahead of the local news media. That in and of itself meant nothing.An hour and a half later when I returned home, Alison was gone, but the note on my table read simply ‘call me’. I called her before I even fixed a bowl of cereal. By the time I got around to the cereal I knew. Below that was wet, warm, gooey, magical girl unknown."Ohh, like that, you're doing good..." she said with her eyes closed and head back against the tree. Her back pants sat scrunched down on one of her ankles, the white lining of her panties looking up at me with an almond-shaped wet spot right down the center. I was rubbing up and down as she'd instructed me to, fascinated by what it did to her.Half an hour ago we were looking around for the group on the street and found no one. She suggested. And the stupid Black men and Black women of Atlanta can’t wait to get back on the Plantation. They’ve just handed the reins of power to a White woman. Sometimes, I really think they’re genetically inferior. Such stupidity is probably innate, it can’t all be accidental. In the sincere opinion of this young Black man, the South’s Black men and Black women are too stupid, trusting and naïve. They’re the worst exemplars of the Black community worldwide. The Black community up North isn’t much.