On her walls were a few pictures. A reproduction of Dürer’s Praying Hands with her nighttime prayer printed on it. ‘Now I lay me down to sleep…...�� A school pennant she’d received with her welcome packet to St. Joe Valley Junior High. Photos of the family, one I’d taken from the air of our home and airstrip, and one of the party she’d attended last spring.There was something about that photo. Twenty or so children lined up in rows, almost like a school picture in its formality. I was quick to pick. One of the younger two came forward. She was red-headed. " My birth name is Sally. My tribal name is ember, or glowing coals." She smiled and tossed her flaming curly locks with one hand. "We three have come in hopes that you will take us under your roof."I opened my arms to offer all three a hug. "I am Alfred. I would not turn you away under any reason save plague. I was only hindered from offering more to the village by our differences in language. Let us go inside to set down your. The woman at the table next to us was reading a newspaper as she ate. She reached for her glass to take a drink and grabbed the ketchup by mistake. She didn't notice until the ketchup was already in her mouth. You should have seen her spit it out! The girls were laughing hysterically."I said, "Em. That's an Em trick if I ever heard of one. The other eGirls are too timid to try anything, but they are her collaborators. They always find whatever she does funny. She feeds off of that. Hell, she is. Ivan never saw the world full of people though, he only saw targets, hits, contracts. The three terms of his occupation. He was a hitman, plain and simple, he was hired to kill and so he killed. But like all men Ivan had the urge he couldnt fight, the one war men lose, he had the urge to stick his prick in some pretty thing and then disappear. He was done for the day surveying the area for his next hit, some bloke in his forties was standing in the way of another corporate bloke in his forties.