Me: jarur kyo nahi.Main raat bhar me Sonal ke bobo ki ragad mehsus karke muth marta rha. Subah hum nikale he thee ki adhe raste me baarish shuru ho ga... toh kuch age chalkar humne ek bus stop par rukne ka socha. Bus stop par utarkar mene dekha ki Sonal puri tarah bheeg chuki hey. Synthetic red saree puri shareer par cheepak gae hey aur puree figure ka ubhar saaf najar arae thee. Mera lund toh uski jawani ko salami dene laga. Thand ke kaaran uske nipple bhe sakth hokar dikhne lage thee. Woh saman. ” I say, and she complies. Starting the car up I ask, “Your name is Lindsey right?”“That’s right Mr. McCormick.” She says with a grin.Driving a bit, I kept thinking about how she didn’t want to go home. In fact, she just wanted to drop off the radar. “Lindsey, what about going to college and all that good stuff?”“Nah I’d rather experience life as it comes.”A nice way to say fuck life.“So, you won’t even contact your family for holidays?” I pry, trying to glean a little more.“No, fuck them. I’m. Work would be close to where each person lived. Cameras would be everywhere. It would be like George Orwell's novel 1984. Implemented much later but just as or even more restrictive. The individual would have no privacy. Even in his own home. Man and wife needed permission to mate. Only one child was allowed and he/she would become a ward of the State upon reaching the age of seven. Sworn to the Elite. Provided all needs and education required. Gifted children were to be sent to special schools. " I asked him about the family. "Well," he said, "My name is Bob. I know, Bob, doesn't sound German but my mother loved American names. I am forty-five and grew up in this town. Mom was twenty when I was born and a beautiful woman right up to the very end of her life. I had a sister that I don't remember. She died of a childhood disease. Mom and dad were so poor they couldn't afford proper medical care. Mom never got over that. The year after I was born, dad got a job building trucks to help.