You're good enough to be in the Grand ol Opry, you surely are." That was blues, Mom," I said."I know what it was." They play country in Nashville." Yo... could do country-blues. Like that guy you played me. The one you like." John Hiatt?" I said."Like him." That'll be the day," I said. "If I ever write a song half as good as John Hiatt I'll try for a record contract." Good." Mom nodded like it was a done deal. She got up and brushed her skirt down. I studied her, unable not to, noticing her. It was a medium size crowd at this point but I was able to get a front row spot. Stacy went up to the bull and did a good job of keeping her modesty as she climbed up on to it. Up to this point we got some nice shots of her lacy bra, but that was about it.The operator started the bull up pretty slowly and Stacy was doing pretty good. Then after about ten seconds, he sped it up and as she was getting spun around her top twisted on her. At that point we all had a nice view of her see through lacy. It was a long walk in the forest, one Dave had been accustomed to over the years, but this time it felt like an eternity, and it didn’t feel nearly long enough. It was shared in silence, as they both contemplated what would be to happen next, none of them knowing what to tell the other.Tonight, Dave was tasked to retrieve the witch and bring her to the village where she would burn. Without a trial or any mercy, they had decided to put on her all of their blame, despite all the good she brought. “What?” he said, puzzled, “Who are you?”“My name is Bridgette, Master. I am your genie,” she said.“My WHAT?” he asked again.“Your genie, Master. I am yours to command. Anything you wish shall be granted,” she replied calmly.“I’m dead. That’s it. I died in the plane crash and this is my heaven. Or hell. That’s the only explanation!” he said aloud to himself.“But you are not dead Master! You are here with me. I saw you wandering in the desert and guided you here to me. I am yours now Master,” she.