When that warm, moist softness brushes my lipsand I part them in instinctive surrender. When his tongue has explored theinside of my mouth for so long...that I can hardly breathe and I'm hanging onto his shoulders for dear life...But that wasn't me. It can't have been.Who am I?Why can't I remember?I try to speak. The woman hushes me. She holds something in front of myeyes. A sudden brightness blinds me once again."It's possible that she may show symptoms of post-traumatic amnesia." How severe and. Four years and three months from now, there will be no one left to collect it."The silence that followed that pronouncement lasted only a good long minute, and then was broken by a giggle from Mrs. Argus. Soon there was a second, and a third, and most of the room was laughing thirty seconds later. Just as the laughter began to die, Mrs. Argus spoke up."Oh honey!" she exclaimed breathlessly to her husband. "I always wanted to be a scofflaw!"That broke the room up again, and it was time for me to. More

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