“Forget them,” she advised. “You’re entitled to do what you want.”“Yes, but what if they notify the police? They’re liable to put out on... of those APB’s.And when I go back to my wife, what can I tell her?”Edna yawned and ran her fingers through her red hair. “Do like they do in themovies-pretend you had amnesia.”“You think that would work?” he asked anxiously as he looked at her in the dim glowfrom the instrument panel.“How the shit do I know?” Edna replied, and changed the subject: “Are we. This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.*************************************************My life was a boring routine. I was trying to finish my PhD, financing myself with part-time work as a tutor and senior library assistant at our local university. I worked long hours for little pay and had no social life at all. I had no time or money for evenings out. More

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