We walked towards a small alleyway, more a loading bay, nothing huge but tucked away. I knew something should have gone off in my brain as they seemed...to crowd around me the more we all walked. Before I had much of a chance to change my mind, hands grabbed my upperarms, pulling and pushing me further down the alley. The blonde spoke harshly, telling me to stay quiet, that no one would miss a dumb american slut, and since I had been so stupid to follow them so quickly, he knew that whoever I. She was sitting on a small fold up stool with an easel and painting, probably two foot by two foot. She was painting with brushes. Both she and the easel were set up on the little jutting out bit of the right bank, on a small flat spot that has a U-shaped juniper bush kind of holding it together. I know the bush well. I knew all the bushes well. A few minutes later as I very calculatingly drifted directly towards her, I smiled at her, she smiled at me. Neither of us said a word. She stopped. More

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