Marta invited Laura out a couple times before she accepted an invitation to a party. Marta had intimated that if Laura chose too, she might meet Mr. R...ght, and get properly laid that night. After thinking it over for a day or so, Laura decided that at the very least, she deserved to get, as Marta put it, ‘Properly laid.’ *** The night of the party, Laura headed to her closet, shucking her boring work clothing as she walked. What to wear, what to wear, she wondered. Linda decided she didn’t have. My stomach curled into a fist and punched the remnants of my bile over the side. 'A couple of hours, lad, just a couple more hours. Play me that song. You know? The one you were playing last night. Go on! It'll take your mind off it.' I sat up against the rail, clutched my guts to save them from a salty grave, and squeezed the words out between dry biblical heaves. 'You've changed your tune, Billy. You were all for silencing me forever last night.' A huge hand slapped my shoulder. 'That were. More

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