Her fingertips touching the cloth of her t-shirt with a sense of urgency, tuggingat it in the darkness, making sure it's still snug and covering her. ...llowingher hands to drop to her sides as she lays on her back. Fingers creeping outon her right side, trying to feel the edges of the surface she lies on. Feelingnothing but a smooth surface, warm to the touch, nothing to frighten her, yetfor some reason she can't understand, making her more afraid than if she hadfelt cold stone. Her other hand. “Hey lady! What you doing up there?” the fat Greek man in a filthy apron asked as she came out the entrance.“Just remembering old times,” she smiled at him.The man looked at the fresh-faced pretty woman and smiled. She looked like a hippy but there was something about her; something not quite right.Michele was used to that look by now and shrugged it off.“Well you should have asked first. That’s my place you know,” the man admonished her but smiled.“Really? I wouldn’t fess up to owning that. More

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