Protruding from the cabinet under the sink, was a woman's naked ass. "Bob? Is that you, Bob?" she asked. "Get me the Hell out of here!" She was yellin..., but the cabinet and its contents tended to muffle the sound. I recognized the voice (and the tone, and the cuss-words)even if I didn't recognize the bare ass. I realized that I was looking at the backside of Wanda J., a fortyish friend-of-a-friend kind of acquaintance. I hadn't ever really warmed up to Wanda, who struck me as pretty much a. The tear slid off the edge of her chin, landing on the thickly lacquered mahogany rail that separated her from her lover. It was one of those unknown and unrecognized things that happen, within our ken, yet go unnoticed.Mandy knew in the depths of her heart that if she dwelt upon the present, the rainstorm brewing behind her closed eyes would flow out. The agony of the present, contrasted with the ecstasy of the past would eventually need to be resolved. Sorrow would eventually win. Tears would. More

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