Lawrence marking the brackets. Countless rounds were played, with sweat pouring and evaporating and feet turning green from the grass. Neija and I mov...d up the line, beating whoever crossed our path. The more we played, the more I began to fall into the same pit as Lorraine. My eyes spent more time on Neija than the shuttlecock, her bronze body glistening with sweat. Goddamn, she was the epitome of sexiness in a way not even Betty could match. The only thing that drew my gaze from her body was. Home at last. Well sort of. At least I got to the baggage check, before I heard my name over the loudspeaker. It was Clem. There had been a meeting. I hate it when people have a meeting. It always ends up that whoever’s missing gets the shaft and since I’m the schmuck who’s always seeing the world via every little dumbshit town in America the Beautiful-that would be me. This was no exception. My bosses had decided that rather than gamble that what had happened in New Mexico was a fluke (Which. More

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