This sacrifice stuff is BULLSHIT.”With one of the buses showing up the discussion needed to end. “Anyway,” she said in parting, “I think a pur...ose like being somebody’s somebody would be worthwhile ... at least during the war.”Heading for home on the EL that night the clack-clack-clack of the wheels on the track helped put Laura’s thoughts into place. She considered Mary’s reference to “purpose” and being “somebody’s somebody” and realized that this subject must have been what the other girls. I filled a nice unchipped glass, pretty flowers painted on it, with iced tea from the cooler jug, dumped in a handful of sugar, some chipped ice and traipsed out the door to meet my fate.Ramon didn't see me coming. He was bent over the sink, rinsing his face. I could count his backbones, count his ribs under his tight brown skin. Up close to him, I felt dizzy for a moment, then he straightened up real slow and turned his head.We locked eyes and just stood there until I held out the glass of. We leave with a lot of reading material to make the two-hour drive back home when Sir tells me he needs another woman he says that he doesn’t want to hurt the baby but he needs someone to full his needs and I want to cry I know that he doesn’t love me but I thought I would be enough for him. He sees young girl walking alone and he tells me to get out and talk to her find out where she is going and I know if I don’t it will be bad for me. I ask her if she needs a ride she looks at Sir I tell her. There were lots of hawks, an occasional falcon, or a lone eagle but, unless they were protecting their babies, they weren’t known to attack people. Besides, when walking in the woods she usually wore a baseball cap so that they wouldn’t mistake her blonde, messy hair for the straw that they could use to feather their nests. Keeping to herself at the shelter, a learned skill not forgotten from living with, enduring, and surviving her battered life with her ex, speaking only when spoken to, she.