Rather than trying to get out of her own side, she pulled her guitar up onto the seat and scooted over, past the steering wheel. She felt the warmth h... had left on the seat on the back of her thighs as her skirt bunched up.“It’s cold,” she complained, shivering as her feet hit the ground. She felt her nipples stiffen. She pulled her guitar case out and hugged it.“Don’t be such a baby,” he said. “It will be warm in the house.”It was warm. It was also dark.“Where is everybody?” she. From about seven in the morning to ten or eleven at night the Manila roadways were heavily congested.A intricate ballet of vehicular pushing and shoving as drivers vied for position and progress.Horns bleated – not out of frustration, but just to let others know they were there.Other drivers responded in kind.During these times, trikes are the only way to travel, next to motorcycles of course – those found it fairly easy to slide between cars and made excellent time.I am a seasoned motorcycle. More

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