I guess I’d been working too long again. ‘Chance?’ I called softly. He didn’t respond. I tried to flick on a light and nothing happened. A sma...l butterfly of panic settled in the pit of my stomach. I swallowed a couple times with difficulty. ‘Chance?’ I called again. Still nothing. No other sounds met my ears. The small butterfly of panic grew a little bit bigger. I shuffled softly against the wall searching for anything that could have made the sound. But I could see nothing. When I entered. They both felt like a tension between them had been left unresolved when he graduated, and constantly thought about each other. * * * * * Two years hence after Phoebe had graduated from high school. She waiting in the national airport, one hour and forty-five minutes before her flight to Barbados. She was a little-known but successful sculptor, in her second year of college, studying art. After her first piece was sold, she decided to buy the a flat there by the ocean, where she could relax. More

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