No one, not even my mother has spoken to me with such a comforting tone. Tears sting my eyes, threatening to spill over the edge and wet my face. ‘...-thank you S-sir.’ I see him flinch slightly at my words and I immediately tense, awaiting his verbal reprimand for speaking out of line. My father is a nice man, however he can become violent when angered, and I was accustomed to that type of punishment from men. However, I was not used to what came next. ‘Alison, I am your husband now, and due. She made quick about getting ready for work and headed out. Work is almost always uneventful. Putting aside the innuendos and the sexual banters from the truckers work can get pretty boring. Everyday it’s the same thing: check credentials, check trucks and let them in, simple! Then there’s the USCG one in particular: Mr. Jareth Anderson the one person who confuses the living hell out of her. He comes everyday talking in a smooth southern accent, flat top head of soft black hair, looking. More

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