The sign said, Hair Cuts, Men $6 - Women $8 - Children $5.That seemed like a good deal so I went in and waited for an open chair.The magazines were an...odd mix, Seventeen and Field and Stream, Modern Woman and GQ.The hair stylist who called me to her chair was named Bonnie.I said that's a pretty name, she said, that's what it means, Pretty.You've got lovely hair, she said and I blushed, no one ever told me that before.She looked me over and said how do you want it cut?I said, just trim it up. There was no fixed chronology. However hard he tried to impose some order, memories came at random. The last weeks, ten years ago, twenty. He gave up struggling and allowed his mind to wander where it would.The party. He had first her met at the party. She had been eighteen. He called up images of that bright room, the dancing couples and the joyous music. Some spark had struck and quickly grown to flame. They danced extravagantly, eyes locked, oblivious of all others. It was like the mating. There was a knock at the door and Evan quickly pulled out of Emma, dashing into the bathroom and closing the door just as the producer walked in. He glanced at Emma bent over the table, her pussy starting to dribble a small amount of cum back out as her eyes remained closed. "Well done," the producer said, ignoring the sight before him. "You did great tonight yeah? Did you enjoy it? Everyone's talking about your performance and the chemistry between you and Evan. Where is he by the way? I must. "What errands do you have to run?" Since I've got an unexpected trip home," Scott said, "I'm making it up as I go. Shouldn't take more than an hour or two. You're going to need a jacket."Janie grumbled, but went the hall closet and yanked a jacket from its hanger.The afternoon wind whipped through Fort Stockton with winter efficiency as they walked outside. Scott shoved his hands into the jacket's pockets and took a breath of fresh, dry air. The air was good in Levall, but it wasn't anything.