Each time she pushed through her clothes ripped a little more and scratches multiplied on her arms and legs. She had no idea how far she'd come in her...two or three hour foray. The sun wasn't visible but she thought she had another three hours of dim daylight left.Just when she'd decided to retreat to the airplane for the night she saw something blocking the forest light ahead. She picked up her pace and soon came to another clearing. Facing her was the corner of a building, and not just a. I wonder if she would sleep in just my pajama tops, me in the bottoms. A picture fills my head, a perfect mental snapshot of Lisa standing in her breakfast nook wearing my light-blue pajama top, the morning paper, folded over, in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other, reading by the early morning sunlight. In slow motion, she turns, in my head, and looks at me, her eyes finding mine. She's wearing her glasses, the ones that make her look shy and sexy and bookish and devilish all at the same. More

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