"Where the fuck did you come from, and who the hell are you?" asks the man, looking up from the telephone."Huh? Who are you?" Lisa asks. "Where's Harr...?" Harry who?" the man answers."My friend. We were having coffee in the deli and then..." LISA? That's impossible!" Of course, I'm Lisa. Who the fuck are you?" Lisa asks. "Where's Harry?"The man looks back on his desk. Something seems to be missing. "Where's my story?" the man asks."Hold it, buster!" Lisa says. "Who the fuck are you and how did I. I hope your stay in this house is at least as nice as it was for me." She stepped toward me to shake my hand and prepared to leave. I had to think quickly; there had to be something I could do to make her stay longer or at least to get her to see me again. "Say, would you like to get some coffee together sometime? You know, to talk about the old days, when you used to live here and all." That was the best I could think of. And I call myself a writer...Jeanie smiled crookedly, not really. More

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