The bus arrives and I get on. As I climb up the step, I feel the unmistakeable sensation of wetness between my legs, as my pussy betrays my arousal. ...e sits alone. Sad.Days go by. I don’t see him. I think about him all the time now. Who is he? Where is he from? Another week. It is nearly the end of June. And then one morning he appears. Still wearing the same tweed jacket and corduroy trousers. “Good morning. A lovely one,” he smiles. “Yes, very,” I reply, my heart beating at his arrival.. ‘You don’t go hunting elk in the middle of New York City, do you?’ Apparently not. ‘What kind of troll did you have last week?’ ‘What kind?’ I asked. ‘Ididn’t know they had kinds.’ ‘Here, figure it out. You can give it back tomorrow.’ She dug a dog-eared paperback out of her pocket and tossed it to me: A Field Guide to the Identification of Trolls. ‘Couldn’t get the Roger Trolly Peterson edition?’ I asked her departing back. ‘Christ,’ she muttered as she pushed open the door. ‘This is all I. More

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