But I was an eighteen year old virgin, a little over weight. Tired of chasing girls who just wanted to be friends.I don't know why her husband left ea...ly. He probably had to work, he did have two jobs. She drank a little to much, not really drunk but my mom suggested I drive her home when the party broke up. On the way to her house Laura and I talked politely about nothing. I parked in the driveway and turned to say goodnight; something happened our eyes locked. Ten, twenty, thirty seconds I. When she reached the body, she turned it over. This body, another woman, also rose to her feet, and the two women faced the men.They studied each other, the women were about the same build as human women, but both had blue skin, eyes that had coal black irises, and dark red pupils. Their cloud white hair curled under just below their ears.They wore what looked like tan colored mid-drift tops, and tan skirts which reached about half way to their knees. The two women began talking to each other. Our drinks came with us and were soon replaced by fresh ones.The decibel level in the club increased and the contest began.We watched as one girl after the other took her turn and her chances on stage. Neither of us was impressed with the first girl. She appeared to be rather drunk and seemed to think that flashing her large naked breasts was good enough.My wife actually liked the way the second girl danced remarking that this one was at least aware that dance involved rhythm. I was aware that. She spent some time locating the practice rooms, the large orchestra rooms and various offices. When she came to Dr. Scott’s office, she paused. Just looking at his door made her heart beat harder. She sat on the bench across from his entrance, and opened her bookbag. She pulled out a notebook and a pen and began a letter to her best friend, Annabelle, back home in Oregon. She wrote of her new apartment, the neighborhood, the school. She described the concert, knowing that Annabelle, a trial.
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