‘And would you do me the honor of writing me another story? I do believe that you now have some new material to work with.’ I had to laugh. ‘Ind...ed I will.’ I wrote her a story, and another – but I never saw her again. Six months later she met someone in Atlanta. I’m not sure I understood it all, but apparently she was from an ‘old’ Southern family. Having a Northerner as a partner, husband, friend, lover – whatever we might have called it, whatever it might have become – simply wasn’t done in. My suspicion was that she was married and unsure of what to do but she did get in. We exchanged friendly smiles, no words came forward and eventually we both left to our rooms. Fate. The Hotel had a large lounge, comfortably and dimly lit. A pleasant atmosphere with soft music and a band scheduled to play for those who wished to dance. I sat at the bar and was enjoying a drink when in she walked. How could I miss her in her burgundy dress that came maybe four inches above her knees. She seemed. More

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