. do I still call you Holly? Or do Icall you Eric? Or what? Anyway, I'm still here andI'm still listening, but I gotta tell you, this isgetting more a...d more far fetched as you go. I mean,c'mon! This is a really good STORY you're telling,but there's no way it can be true."Holly sighed and got a resigned look on her face."I can see," she said, "that you're going to needabsolute proof of this, aren't you? I guess I can'tblame you. I was the same way when I first heardthis, but I thought I had. I dressed quickly without my morning shower even. Then I picked up the small purse. I removed everything from the room which was what checking out of the room ordinarily required. That morning I stopped by the office, I left Billy sitting in my truck."My friend had an accident. Bumped his nose on the bathroom door. I'm sorry I had to take a towel for his bloody nose. I'm checking out and taking him to the ER just in case it's broke. I need to pay you for the towel. So how much?" Twenty. If there were ever a story of a modern-day prodigal son, this was it, except the son was actually the mother of a spectacular young lady who happened to be my wife and a fine young engineer and a person who held a status at a major university as a source of unlimited potential.And that young lady was messed up. She talked to me. Of course she talked to me. I'm her husband by some happy twist of fate, for which I daily offer prayers of thanksgiving. We talked at length."Of course you love your. At first I was confused by it all, the feel of her brushing against me, the smell of her perfume, the wispy softness of her long hair as she swung it around in a seductive manner. But eventually I became aware that I was responding to her. That feeling down below just could not be dismissed. I was feeling so erotic, so naughty, so disoriented. What a revelation. When the music ended the lights came up and we all said our good nights, it would be an early day tomorrow for all of us. I.