Much Awkwardness Ensued.

It Was Adam, But He Was Too Late. He Couldn’t Love Me Anymore. He Would Be So Angry With Me. I Had To Hide. He Didn’t Love Me So He Might Hurt Me When He Was Angry. When He Calmed Down, That Would Hurt Him. I Didn’t Want Him Hurting Because Of Me. There Was Nowhere For A Person To Hide. So I Wouldn’t Be A Person. My Eyes Fell On The Shelves That Lined The Far Back Corner. A Coyote Could Hide There.

Zee Said, Grumpily, “liebling, This Is Not A Good Idea.” “zee,” I Told Him, “i Am Completely Out Of Good Ideas And Am Doing My Best With The Bad Ones I Have Left.

Take A Note: It Usually Works Better If You Wait Until I Do Something Stupid Before Getting Mad At Me.

A Second Floor Window Opened, And Kyle Stuck His Head And Shoulders Out So He Could Look Down At Us. “if You Two Are Finished Playing Cowboy And Indian Out There, Some Of Us Would Like To Get Their Beauty Sleep.” I Looked At Warren. “you Heard ‘um Kemo Sabe. Me Go To My Little Wigwam And Get ‘um Shut-eye.” “how Come You Always Get To Play The Indian?” Whined Warren, Deadpan. “cause She’s The Indian, White Boy,” Said Kyle.

You Are A Sick, Sick Man,” I Told Him. “thank You,” Ben Replied, Looking Modest.