She readily agrees as it is her weekly off from work. She agrees to meet me at the bus stand. As I get down the bus she is waiting for me on her scoot... wearing a normal salwaar suit. It was lunch time so I offer her to have lunch together. She agrees. We go to a normal hotel on her scooty and have lunch. Now we wave goodbye but suddenly she offers me a dropback to bus stand I agree and sit on backseat. On the way I ask her if she ever had a massage. She refuses and I ask if she wants one now. And he was standingin his uniform, his arms folded, as she was dragged out of his apartmentdoorway and to the top of the stairs.The memory wasn't perfect in the dream. It wasn't a blow by blowretelling of the scene as it had occurred. But the sense of finality andrelease was there as it had been in real life. Release from personalconnection and the pinch of anachronistic morality.The woman was screaming as she was dragged away by the soldiers; cursinghis name; and he knew she was his wife. He. That man you saw in the videos probably started dining women when he was 14 and hasn’t stopped to read a book since. In his fling with Jane, he probably stuffed her with more Italian sausage than you’ll cook in a lifetime. They roleplayed all the kinkiest scenarios of caveman famine and desert island delight. They did it in the living room, on the back patio while the neighbors were catching a peak, in a few public spaces. He brought in his Latino friend to spice up the meals a few times. He. You know that. We’re together. All of us. The only thing that would change is how little sleep we’ll get with a baby around.”Susan burrowed her head against me and said nothing.~~~~Melissa and I were installing a new kitchen faucet by ourselves when she said, “We never asked Susan to come camping with us, you know.”I snorted. “We never asked because neither of us could imagine Susan camping. She’s a city girl.”“We’re city people too, and we did it. You’ve gone backwoods camping several.