I was proud of my son, who led the way, through the thickets, finding the easiest routes, but never loosing his way. We came back to the clearing in ...ue course. Everything was as we had left it, except some critter had gotten into the bag of potato chips and left a a trail of crumbs and nothing else. We cleaned up and repacked. Then sat down with a soda to rest.“Mom,” said my son the woodsman, “We ought to check for ticks.” He took off his shirt, “Look for small black spots that don't. A brighter person would have deleted or use a non-traceable browser. James wasn't bright.5 foot 11 inches, skinny, with a pinched, hunched expression. His lank hair always looked like it needed a wash, which it frequently did. His face was one of defeat, his eyes were dull grey, screwed up slightly as if to hide from the world that he had discarded.In his room when he wasn't working he would surf the net for porn. First it was just things like celebrity wardrobe malfunctions, then he started on. More

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