She had some of the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. I smiled at her when our eyes met."Yea, I'm ok I guess. Why do all of you men have to be such...assholes?" she said very defensively, but in an almost rhetoric way."Hey, we aren't all that bad. I'd say 95 percent...no, 75...no, 30...ah hell maybe 2 percent of us aren't. If my last girlfriend is any authority, I probably make up 99% of the guys on a whole."That made her smile a little. "So you're the king of assholes then?" Coming from my. Funerals were so rare in my life that I wasn’t quite sure what to think about the idea of an open coffin.I spent a few minutes talking with Vladyka ARKADY, paid proper respects to Matushka Anastasia and John, as well as Deacon Grigory’s mother, who lived in Cleveland, and his brother, who lived in Richmond, Virginia. I had a brief word with Father Herman, and a somewhat uncomfortable word with Deacon Vasily who seemed to be biting his tongue the entire time. Clarissa and I spent some time. Through it all, there seemed to be an extra something there under the trees, or in the trees. None of us saw it, but we felt it, and we came away from there very sure that, not only was there something there, but we'd not only touched it, we'd shared with it, celebrated with it.By midwinter we were all in constant contact, even to exact words and images. We could "listen in" on what each other was experiencing, even if we were miles apart. From then on, the radios went unused. We all knew or. I started squeezing and playing hard. Now she resisted and turning towards me she saidSita: yeh thik nehi hai,meri bachhe abhi school se a jayenge (it’s not good, I have kids, they can come any moment from school)Me (holding her tight and kissing her ears): kuch nei hoga, bas chup rahyio (nothing will happen, it will remain between us)Now I felt she was in the drive too, she was resisting but at the same time she was holding and pulling me towards her as well. I guessed she was dry for months.