”“Letting me go,” I blurted out. “I don’t get it,” I said, stunned by his words.“Life has more imagination than the mind,” he said, ru...bing the back of my hand as he held it with his other hand.“What’s that suppose to mean?” I asked, confused and still feeling I was being rejected.“It means you have to live and see where life takes you,” he said, calmly. “Let the path unfold and take it one step at a time.”“I’m doing that. I left my town where I was a prisoner and came to Boston and I met you. She would think I’m beautiful and wonder what I want with you. She would say your not home and with a seductive smile I’d ask If I can wait for you inside. We would sit and she would make me something like a tea or coffee. I notice her eyes keep admiring my figure, my large breasts peaking out of my dress, my long beautiful legs. I can tell she is thinking about us together wondering if I’m your lover. And she starts to ask, obviously her imagination running wild. I can see her cheeks blush. I. More

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