They had preceded him to the lonely hilltop and didn’t appreciate the intrusion. ‘Forget about him. He can’t see us. He doesn’t even know that...we’re here. If he did, he wouldn’t care,’ the young man ordered. The girl was blond and pretty. Her wavy locks fell over her shoulders and tee shirt. The youth was good looking in a different way. He wore curly brown hair, just a little bit too long. He was heavily muscled. His face was changing form, straddling the tender features of a boy to the. I'd also been taking advantage of the fact that I was just out of the receptionist's line of sight and had surreptitiously rolled a joint. I was in desperate need of narcotic recreation after the drive from Boston. At least we were scheduled to stop for three or four days this time. An opportunity at last to relax."Veronica Wilson," said Andrea."Sorry, who?" Veronica Wilson," Andrea repeated. "You must have heard of her. Singer-Songwriter from the seventies. She used to perform with the likes. More

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