My last year there, 1971, I fell in love with Patti Li. My very first Asian (also my last) experience. As previously written, the last day of camp was...a time where all the boundaries between people were removed. At one point during the evening, Patti and I found ourselves spread out on a spread out sleeping bag on the floor of cabin 10. We started with the usual hugging and kissing. As poison ivy was not an issue this year, I had no qualms about things progressing further. Patti, on the other. I’d been to the clinic before, so should have known better, but had followed my instincts rather than the map. At least it gave me extra time to cough. They had to see that my throat was properly inflamed before they took me, but it was two grand. A grand a week, which was not bad. They liked me because I was a non smoker. Everyone else was smokers. If they needed to get a cohort of non smokers they would have had to pay more money. Even then they were fucked. Middle class people. Still no reaction.Shit! This ain’t no fun. He’d make it quick. Break out some extra rations afterward. But Jesus Christ, she’s probably been fucked through the Russian lines, the German lines, the Allied lines, for chrissake! Raped or whored, it mattered none.Fuck it. Maybe he didn’t need to do it right now. He needed to be watching the horizon.Unsure of how to redress her, he draped her with a sail, but as the canvas felt coarse, he replaced it with his jacket.He’d keep watch for a while,. Once inside of the apartment he began looking around the house. He found an extension cord in a drawer in the kitchen, and a knife in the wood block on the counter, a big butcher’s knife. This time though, instead of murdering the lady by the kitchen sink, it would be easier to kill her in the tub away from open windows. He quickly gathered a suitcase from her bedroom closet, garbage bags from her laundry room cabinets, and instead of a handsaw this time, the only thing he could find was a meat.