Bemused, Irene would shrug her pretty shoulders, smile sweetly and tell him not to be silly. “I am very happy,” she’d say. That much was certain...y true. And, because Oliver was her only lover, she was unable to form any comparisons, good or bad. Also, Irene didn’t have anything like the sexual appetite of her husband and was, indeed, contented. Still, despite all her assurances, Oliver convinced himself of two things: that his small penis was inadequate and that Irene must wonder about sex. This was occurring too often, when I was away on my job. I was getting more and more feedback over Ann that's my wife and the antics she was getting up to. When I approached her over it, I was told politely to fuck off.I had had enough and threw her out the house. She stood in the street and shouted obscene remarks at me and anyone else who said anything. Eventually she walked away. She was found the next morning brutally raped and severely beaten to death, and she had a high alcohol level in. When and Where we can lump together; when was last night and where was in a motel room, at least this time. I don't know the other times or other places, although I'm sure there were several.What; I guess we both know the What of your little affair, don't we? And finally the Why; maybe the excuses from that handbook explained all that. The important thing about the Why is I don't care. I don't care why you had sex with the asshole or should that be assholes; it's enough that you did.How did I. There was no mention of Sylvia by name but the bullshit about an American Foreign Legion was all over the place. Newsmen just loved a good sound bite and that one gave it to them. Swamp Dog was truly in the shit, I thought.I stayed with the news until I went to the dining hall for lunch. It was no more than a ham and cheese sandwich on a fancy bun. I ate half then walked out with the half empty glass of dark beer.I went back to the cabin to begin following the news online again. I stayed there.