.. what’s wrong?” she asked batting her eyes to get her husband’s face into focus.“You wanted me to wake you,” he said smiling at her.“I d...d? What time is it?” She murmured struggling to focus her eyes on the clock.“Almost six O’clock.”“When did I tell you to wake me at 5:50?”“Last night, remember? You told me the next time I wanted to make love to you for me to wake you first. Remember?” She had a vague recollection of the conversation but she was stressing for him not to have sex with her. It was a great time (just broke.) In the spring of that year, me and whoever was around that day would spend much time on my patio drinking and petting.Where we built happened to be by these people I had known all my life from going to church with them. The wife, Mrs. Ann (okay her real name was Ruth), was your typical older rural lady that was in church every time the doors opened. She always wore the same style clothes, nylon type skirt that went down mid calf and a similar type blouse. How. More

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