Something had been niggling at my mind as I read Cecelia’s letter and the newspaper articles when the flash bulb went off in my head. In the late 19...0’s Marty Robbins had written and sang a song, El Paso. I’d heard that song played on every juke box in every bar on East Main (to you old salts, Easy Main) Street in No-Fuck, Virginia for months. I also faintly remember that later he’d written and sang a song about Feleena. I also vaguely remember another song titled El Paso City. Could El Paso. ‘Do you mind if I sit next to you, it’s just a little difficult to hear you over the noise of these old trains?’ Of course I wanted her sitting next to me and more. Our conversation quickly turned to our relationships or actually our lacking there. It always amazed me back then that any woman as beautiful as she would not be involved with someone. Well, I had a lot to learn. Her name was Sarah and she was rather animated when she talked. She frequently gestured with her hand. At one point in. More

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