“You don’t have a girl, do you?”“No?” Did he think he was gay?“What do you think of Brittany?” He must mean the Junior girl and not the ...rench province. At least, he’d seen the girl.“Nice girl. Pretty enough.” She was no Marilyn, but she was no hag either.“What I’m going to tell you, you can’t repeat to a living soul, ever.”“Okay.”“She just broke up with her boyfriend. She feels dumped, and in the dumps. If somebody asked her to the next dance, she’d feel much better. You do dance, don’t you?”. I no can take more I go way. Kiss hug my kids. Tell I love them. The man on train he sees me. No good for me no good save kids. Goodbye good person god loves you. I was crying by the time I finished reading this sad missive of pain. Reading between the lines I could see some of her hard life and problems. I washed my face in the hall bathroom and came back to look at the birth certificates. They did confirm that Ludmila was their mother but both were marked as ‘father unknown.’ The ages were. More

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