‘Ok, I can’t fault you for bad taste, but how did you go from loving Becky, to helping out the guys on our team,’ Greg asked still confused? ‘...ell one day I accidentally overheard Becky tell Stacy that she probably wouldn’t be able to go to nursing school, because the councilor said that it would be nearly impossible to earn a scholarship for cheerleading. Her grades were decent, but not quite good enough to get her there academically, and her mother just couldn’t afford to help out. I decided. ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦"Ho, ho, ho, we got the decorations," I laughed as I connected the last string of twenty-five LED Christmas lights to the collector's battery. The night vision friendly strand of crimson bulbs drew two-point-four watts and bathed the interior of our sandbag bungalow with a sinful shade worthy of only the best brothels in Saigon. Memory bubbles are like that. Triggered by smell, sound, or something, they pop into thoughts uninvited. "Every day will be the same as the last, except for. More

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