Damn. Out of the shower, still drying off, naked, I stood in front of the open fridge looking for something to eat for breakfast. It was pretty empty ...n there. The cold air against my bare skin feels great. For a moment, my nipples agree. As I rub a finger idly over my pussy, I realize I probably need to go to the grocery store later. At least there is one yogurt left. Nothing else. Pathetic. The towel tossed on the counter, some drops of water still standing on my skin, I leaned back against. He was so naive about life, despite his many years. A nice person to work with, but a little annoying to be around when she was feeling down. Why was she feeling down? She was free now – she’d been free for years now. Christians were no longer rounded up and put to death. She felt guilt, of course, but she’d become used to that over the years. It was him. It was seeing him again after all these years. Marcus, beautiful Marcus. His face so stern yet the kindness showing through. How he had got. "I guess I haven't eaten in a while." She pouted her lips slightly, but didn't respond. Instead, she pushed her book up the table toward my shoulder and sat down in front of it."You ought to rest some more," she said and returned to her book. For the next forty minutes or so, the only sound was of her turning pages. Finally I broke the silence."How did you know my name earlier?" You were famous around here even before you arrived," she said, looking up from her book and giving me a smile.. The young man was Charles Guiteau, afterwards the assassin of President Garfield.*** Cindi BeginsTryphena gets institutionalized and her Henry gets to garden.Perfectionism makes more sense, though than Mormon men who wear special underwear and get to populate their own universes. Plus they all get to be Elders. A Mormon wife is like living in a time-share. A Perfectionist wife would have been more like a whole hotel. My church is just as bad about females, but we aren’t excommunicated for.