I once knew a quite extraordinary individual. What made him so unique was that he was constantly asking himself the question, "what would God want me to do in this situation?" ....As fate would have it, I found myself in the company of this most peculiar of men on the day he passed away. In fact, I was with him when the deadly event transpired.

I realize this is the Johnson’s baby daughter, all grown up now. A serious piece of ass.

“I’m Cynthia. You remember me?”, she asks, as she looks directly at me, covering her firm breasts with a very low cut bra.

Yeah, I remembered her. My boy used to have the hots for her when they were in High School together. She was over our house quite often in those days.

“I just got back in from Cornell. What’s the matter, cat’s got your tongue?”

With those words, still towel drying her long blond hair, she sits down next to me on the bed.

The author had written a small introductory note, within which contained the following passage....." I had presented creation with an ultimatum: Tell me your secret or let me perish.' I had to run away from myself. But how? And where? I dreamed of a humanism and ethics the basis of which would be a refusal to accept all the evils the Almighty has sent and is preparing to send against us in the future".

She went to bed, pulling the covers up to her neck and turning her body sideways as not to be facing me. I quickly undressed, snuggled up beside her in bed, gingerly swept aside her hair, and gently kissed the nape of her neck. "Come on, sweetie, don’t be like that. I did it all for you and the kids"..."Do you take me for a fool, Jimmy?”. She kept her gaze for a short while, then got out of bed and disappeared into our walk-in closet.

Andrew and his group of friends had long ago concluded that religion was at the root of the majority of the difficulties the world was facing at present. Not only that, but they believed that this rift in mankind has been causing problems for thousands of years. Their anthem was the John Lennon song, Imagine.

Lenny was really on top of his game this particular night. He came out on stage as he always did, without a plan....It was one of those times where he became like a channel, having no idea of what was going to come out of his mouth next. So much so that he was constantly surprising and cracking himself up, as if he too was a spectator, sitting amongst the crowd and watching his own performance.

“They were supposed to be here a while ago”. “Hey, I’m just the messenger, Jimmy”. Jimmy lights up a cigarette, opens the driver’s side window a bit. Dylan’s “Knocking On Heavens Door” plays quietly on the car radio. “It’s freezing out there”. Jimmy reaches out to turn up the heat. “Listen, Donny, I’ve got everything riding on this. It’s my last chance. Don’t give me this “messenger” crap. You know better than anyone that you’ve gotta be firm with these guys”. Jimmy leans forward, searches for something beneath his seat. He locates his .44 Magnum, puts it in his right jacket pocket.

"You're just not cut out for this sort of shit", Paul said, as they lifted the corpse out of the trunk of the car.

Joey knew he was right. He held the lifeless man by the legs, Paul at the other end, his hands clutching the body by the sides of it's chest. They carried it until they reached the edge of the cliff, and at the silent count of three swung the recently murdered man down into the river below.

How and why I ended up working for the C.I.A. is a mystery in and of itself...My sole assignment till this very day is to delve into and dissect the mind and motives of the terrorist, specifically those of Middle Eastern descent.