“Yours too. I’ll do yours when you’re done with mine.”He asked for a comb, and she went back in to get it and sat back down.“Just get it ove... with,” she said.He clipped and tugged. The pain in her hair roots, she decided, distracted her from the pain elsewhere, and embraced it, thinking that this pain was removing the feeling of dread that had hung over her since the attack. As clots of paint-hardened hair fell to the ground, she released the fear along with them, beginning to slump on the keg. She wore a flowered dress, that was just tight enough to show her curves. She had on high white heals. I started to wonder if she was wearing white stockings or pantyhose.We had a great conversation during dinner. We really hit it off with Joe and Theresa. After dinner we moved into the ballroom for the dance. The tables were set up for four people and we all sat at one table. I couldn’t keep my eyes of Teresa. She was a beautiful woman.At one point during the night, there was a Congo. More

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