Already, the upper-left curvature of the sun had sneaked past the jagged outline of a distant mountain peak, and together, we watched in awe, inhaling...the altitude-chilled mountain air, drinking in the rising amount of solar energy. I held her to me. I held her tightly, my chin resting atop her sun-colored strands. I could feel her discomfort, her complaints, her sullenness dissipating like a thin fog penetrated by unfettered sunlight. Her joy at witnessing this spectacle of Nature was almost. She’d have a couple of drinks. I’d smoke a joint. Over those few months, I discovered how lonely she was. She’d been a successful young editor at a magazine, and quit it all to marry my father, an engineer. Our conversations covered everything politics, drugs, even sex. “You know, I never could come with your father,” she said. “I always had to masturbate.” I was pretty non- committal during these ramblings she got into. I found myself simultaneously embarrassed, and very, very turned on. At. More

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