The thoughts idly drifted. I was working as a drug store cashier, and had thoughts of the boss, and then some mundane things about how to be a cashier... Dimmer memories of brothers and sisters and parents flitted about. There were memories of going to a bar recently, some drinks, being propositioned by a guy and inviting him up to my apartment. It had been the uninspired fulfillment of an urge. It had left an empty feeling along with a mild hangover.This was not my life, and it was hard to. Jeromy chirped about "planned obsolescence" seeing the poor quality connections and parts used. It was early afternoon when they finished and then were about to continue with the day's plans."Jeromy, have you ever been to a cigar lounge?" No, but I've heard of them." I belong to one and I know there will be a few people around to watch the ballgame this afternoon. What do you think if I bring you as a guest, we have a stogie or two, watch the game, have a few drinks and a bite or two, then. After a series of quick attacks I saw an opportunity to getinside Maeven's defense. I ducked backwards letting her blade swish theair a mere fraction of an inch in front of me. I brought my arm up tocontinue to push her arm in the direction it was going and using hermomentum and body weight, I slipped my leg behind her and pushed myselfinto her. The move was flawless. Maeven collapsed down on the ground withher arm pinned and me laying on top of her with my knife once again ather throat.Maeven. ”I lay there clinging tightly to her wondering how it was that I had ended up acting like a teenaged virgin in love. Then I saw the picture on the wall over her dresser. It was the fortune teller from the street fair.“Who... who is that?” I stammered out as I raised myself slightly and moved over so I was alongside her.“Oh, her,” she laughed. “That’s my bunica. That’s the Romanian word for grandmother. She watches out over me.”“You’re ... .... Romanian?” I asked, looking back and forth from the.