Thomas hadn’t even had time to draw breath to shout in all this time before the Nazi-loving redneck made his decision and sprinted straight at the w...ndow.Another crash, of glass this time, and the man was straight through the window pane and running towards the rear of the house.“We’ve got a runner!” Thomas yelled before setting off after him.His shotgun tucked behind his back; Tom sprang through the window as well. More glass falling as Thomas added to the hole in the window. Wispy lace. I doubted anything would come of it, but if it did and I didn't have condoms? That'd really suck.I was waiting on the porch when Cindy pulled up, and so was the rest of my family. She bounced out of her mom's Ford Fairlane station wagon. It was blue with a faux wood panelling strip that was peeling off. "I know," she said as she walked up. "The car is older than either of us, but it runs and Dad says it's safe, so I can drive it." It's more car than I have," I said. "For now, at least." Cindy. It felt so right to hold her. Not to touch her inner folds. Just to allow her to be one with the dark, one with the feel of the space, and feel her explode in joy.After one hour there was stillness when the gentle music stopped. We were invited to stay still for a few moments. Come back to our own space, our own body, our own skin. And then a single candle was lit and, through the shadow and flickering light, I saw the most beautiful, joyous, array of naked bodies entwined, alone, standing,. “Greta, how are you. My new friend Shaun has a wagon and goods to sell ya and needs daily necessities. Afterward, we need to see your daughter about some clothes.”I rolled my eyes as I walked up and shook Greta’s hand. “While I can certainly talk for myself, she’s not wrong.” I laughed. Greta had an indulgent smile. I pulled out the letters and handed them to her, “There are some circumstances to my owning the wagon. These should clear them up.” I grabbed the sealed paper I had forgotten and.