I sighed and paid attention to where I was going.Finally, I had worked my way around to the edge of a small clearing. Powerful magics had been worked ...ere - I could feel it through my boots. Now, though, there was no magic at work, but a power greater still, it seemed. At the center of the clearing stood a stone post twice my own height, with an iron ring set in it. Chains hung from the ring, stretching down to a lithe figure standing at the post’s base.I sighed again, sheathed my battleaxe. ’ ‘You’ll be phenomenal. I’m not worried one bit. Go get ’em, then come back for me!’ During the long taxi ride to my meeting, I couldn’t get the picture out my mind of Sasha lying naked in the bed, rumpled sheets draped carelessly over him. It was all I could do to keep from telling the cabby to turn around, to go back to the hotel. At 11:30 PM, I wearily put the key-card into the lock and opened the door to our room. At first, I didn’t think Sasha was in the room, but suddenly, he pulled the. She remembered how guilty she felt when she discovered masturbation. How she had traveled to a different city to go confess because she did not want the priest in their town to know. Julie remembered how bad and helpless she had felt when she slowly got more and more addicted to fingering herself. She recalled the endless hand washing to get the smell of her fingers, and the sense that everyone could look into her head and see her dirty thoughts. In retrospect, her relation with Tom, or at. To John Podesta, her ever-efficient campaign chair, early that evening, and happening quite suddenly, the winds died down. A stillness set in, and it was as if the country hiccupped.Only hours before, and according to the supposedly trustworthy NY Times ‘Real-Time Meter,’ ne’er-do-well Donald Trump had an eighty-four percent chance—of losing. By mid-evening, that changed, and swift as can be, the hated man from Queens shot to a ninety-five percent chance—of winning!Hours of network silence.