Thanks. E. Z. * I opened the door to find Carla at thirteen. Big blue eyes with long lashes. Overpowering eyes. Gangly, coltish, flat chested, and hip...ess. Long, straight brown hair. Lips of brown from a Fudgcicle she sucked innocently. ‘I’m Carla. You’re Bill, Bessie’s grandson who lives here now. You’re twenty-six and working on your Master’s in English at the University. You’re a writer, too, but you’ve never published anything. You’re single and you don’t have a girlfriend. See. I know all. Hurrying down to my Honda I was stunned at what I saw. There was a small envelope under the driver’s side windshield wiper. Trembling I plucked it up and returned to my apartment. My hands were still shaking as I examined the envelope. There was no any writing on it at all. My hands shook as I carefully opened it. I pulled the small card from the envelope and something resembling a business card fell out. Picking it up I saw that it was a motel key card. It was a low budget one at that.. More

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