"I love your pancakes." She always told me. "Kinda sad that you end up making the breakfast even though I should." she said a few weeks ago as I poure... syrup on her plate.I grinned."Its okay mom! You work hard to make sure we have money for the breakfast." "I know. But I don't make nearly enough now." Its enough for us mother" I said patting her hand.The sweet smell of batter brought me back. She was already coming down the stairs. I scurried around putting everything on the table.I heard her. At six foot and one and hundred ninety pounds, I considered myself a fairly big man. I figured I could take care of myself and walked confidently into the night.I came to the intersection of a street two blocks from the hotel, totally out of visual contact with the doorman, when a black man as big as the building I was standing next to emerged from the shadows. Like the proverbial deer, I froze. Then I noticed trailing behind him was a white woman who was cursing and futilely flailing at the. More

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