Father dreaded the answer as he asked the question.“Who is the lucky young man?”“Oh, Father don’t be silly, it’s Stil,” a number of young ...omen informed the priest.It was all he could do to keep a smile on his face. In a University filled with oversexed, immature men, Robert Simons might be considered an exception. He was painfully shy and awkward. He was very studious in his quiet way and maybe even somewhat likable. But that was the extent of his good qualities.Robert was an atheist by. Small potted plants, basil and parsley, a small cactus with red buds, line the kitchen counter.Curious, I thumb through everything she owns, which, while not a lot, clearly has sentimental value, a concept I’m not well-versed in. I look up at a series of polaroid’s and scenic cutouts tacked to a corkboard above her bed. Bright faces smile back at me in a vivid explosion of real happiness.I hate it.I’m jealous of it.I wish I knew why.A small cutout in the bottom corner draws my eyes, gives me. What a headache.You look over at your wife, who's been so supportive through all this. She's a long legged dream with a nice tight body and very large breasts which haven't started to sag very much over the years. As you move the dark hair away from her flawless face you're reminded of the two beautiful children you've had with this woman. Your son Mark, who's 21, is an accomplished athlete and scholar just like you and enjoys the female attention he gets with his short brown hair and muscular. "HELP! HELP ME!"Over the sounds from the cascading rocks, I heard the plaintive cry of a female, but muffled by the distance from me – sound doesn't travel far in a heavily treed environ. I stopped and tried to determine the direction of the sounds – somewhere off to my left. I slowed and changed course, slightly to my left and off the trail."I'M HERE. YELL AGAIN SO I CAN FIND YOU," I shouted."Over here. I'm over here. Help. I've fallen. I'm hurt."I zeroed in on the voice, slowly approaching.