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So much time passed while I did that chore, that I was jealous when Janet come into the kitchen with her cinnamon bun. She washed it down with orange juice made from concentrate.“Since I brought a can of coffee grounds, can I have a cup of your fresh coffee?” she asked when the bun was gone.“Sure as long as you brew the next pot, and put it in the aging jar,” I said. The aging jar was actually an iced tea pitcher with an ‘x’ on the outside. The ‘x’ was made of red duct tape. Like everything in. Most of her clothes yesterday had been black. Today, she was in a red camisole and matching g-string. She looked fabulous! She immediately came over and sat with me, I bought us beers and shots, and we continued right where we had left off the day before. It seemed that we genuinely had some life situations in common, and were both missing something in our lives that we wanted filled. I began to hope that perhaps we could be good for each other.She danced, spending more time right in front of.

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