Fuck it all. Never going to happen, Chris. Live with it.I sighed. I wanted to try something on. A dress, maybe. Some jewelry,perhaps. Maybe polish my ...ails. But no. Way too late to do anythingtonight, I reflected. Got work tomorrow, anyway. But, after strippingoff my clothes, I slipped into a silky negligee before crawling intobed.--My day job was at Sherwood Music. I worked the counter, sold guitars andamps, repaired and set up just about anything with strings that camethrough the door,. There, off in the distance, I could see the back of my wife?s car again. Behind that was an old black Buick. I squinted into the dark. No, maybe it was the house in front that had the Buick, I thought, frozen, fighting with my depth perception.?Get in here! You?re late!? Yelled Janet from the back porch. I picked it up, and scrambled in the door. ?Mrs. Graves does not like for her girls to be late,? said Janet, as she led me through the halls. I was maybe one minute late, I was. More

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