"My name's Prentice, but my fiends call me Trish," she said with a smile. "Hi." You sure are pretty," I told her truthfully. "Are you really a cheerle...der?" Uh huh, at school. I was JV this year, but I'll be with the varsity in the fall." She blinked at me. "I'm going to be a junior." No kidding. I though you were older." It's these," she said, gasping her big boobs and holding them up. "There's so darned big." I guess they do get in the way sometimes, but they're really nice, very, I don't. Her future was, she knew, in the abyss that lay before them all, her past was an unusable wreckage of skeletons shuffling by on their way to ovens that consumed devotion and vomited evil across a darkened sun. There had been nowhere to hide, really, nowhere to run, so she had turned inward to cling to the only real thing in her life – her love for Tomas. What was Israel? An idea? Another godforsaken idea? How many more ideas would there be to keep humans from the ultimate truth of their. More

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