He doesn't have nightmares about how he should've run in to save her or call the cops sooner or something, anything."Marshmallow?" groans Nic. His arm...is outstretched toward me with his sleeve dangling straight over the fire. In his hand is a stick with the sad remains of a burnt and melting marshmallow. It drips slowly and pathetically off the stick as he waits for a reply."I'm good, man." I try to keep the malice out of my voice but some of it leaks through anyway. He's too stoned to care but. I was thirty years older than she so it was just a jack-off fantasy, albeit the best one that I had. I made every attempt to at least speak to her when our paths crossed. Then I found out when she did laundry down the basement and, surprise, that’s when I began to do mine.I hadn’t been with a woman in five years. Feeling very socially inept and unattractive, I hadn’t even tried. But as I visited with Laura, she seemed to really enjoy my company. Every time we were doing our clothes together she. More

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