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Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is too weird for words and 100% purely coincidental.

Chapter 1 I stuffed my last cardboard box of personal belongings into the cargo hold of my girlfriend's Toyota Rav4, jumped into the passenger seat, and waited while she fussed over a map with directions to our new home. She flipped her shoulder-length hair out of her eyes for the umpteenth time and squinted to read the tiny print. " She put the Rav into drive, and we started on our way. Darlene was a smart, feisty little brown-haired woman, just under five feet five inches tall, with small breasts, shoulder length hair, and a freckled baby face. We met at a local tavern where we developed an unlikely May-December relationship.

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Our bartender presented her with another complimentary White Russian as his sacrifice to the Gods of Wishful Thinking. A few moments later, our generous drink master returned with three tall White Russians. Still waters run deep, and it didn't end well. " "A twofer is the first and last time something happens. Why the fuck would I want to be named after a stagnant pond?

"One is for you and the other two are honor guards for the dead soldiers," he pointed to the two empty glasses. "Okay Dennis, that was a twofer," the book she was reading sailed across the room, missing my head by less than an inch. " Her smile was a weird combo of mischief and annoyance. Everyone needs a hobby and sex was her diversion from work.

" tilted her head back and wolfed it down in one long gulp. Darlene was in a class by herself, and that was a problem. " she leaned into me until our noses touched while her hand moved to my knee and slowly slid along the inside of my leg. It was as cliché as shit, but I couldn't help myself. She had just made me an offer I couldn't refuse. We became romantically involved as much out of laziness as out of lust.

She sparkled like a diamond in a coal bin and scared the shit out of the men she approached. As Darlene studied me, her dark look of frustration gradually brightened, and her eyes sparkled as her grim expression transformed into the predatory smile of a fox. I answered by placing my hand on her knee and mirrored her journey of exploration. Neither of us cared to invest the necessary time to search for the perfect partner, so we settled for close enough for right now.

The certified letter ordering our eviction was the last straw.

Our financial camel lay mortally wounded, its back broke beyond repair.

"I love this drink," she inhaled the beverage, chugging it down in one long gulp. How can anyone love a drink without taking the time to appreciate the subtle by-play of flavors? " she smiled before dispatching the last White Russian. She collected orgasms like some folks collected postage stamps.

Thirst quenched for the moment, Darlene resumed her quest for tonight's bed partner. After a few months together, the real-estate development company in which Darlene had invested fifteen years of her life went belly-up, and then her last two paychecks bounced.

Thank you," Darlene frowned as she hung up the phone.

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  1. The Change Set Id is only a parent id for the changelog, not for the manifest of the files.

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