That was not unusual, because 205th was the terminal and trains had to clear the platform before another train could enter.Except on that night, it wa... the ungodly hour of nearly 3:00 AM when I was sitting there. This being May of 1977, public employees were completely demoralized and didn’t give a damn about doing their jobs. Thus there were no announcements from either the train operator or the conductor.I was a college senior at that point, nearing graduation, and I was returning from a. I’d walked in on them just fifteen minutes prior to the current conversation. Leslie Ford, my wife, was getting it hot and heavy by the man who had been my best friend since age six, thirty years and counting. Talk about clichés. After the initial yelling and running around trying to find discarded underwear et al, I had suggested that instead of my doing something untoward, like beating the shit out of Roger, that we all adjourn to the kitchen to see where things were going to go from here.. This was just easy money. I paused before leaving because something about the room felt very familiar though I didn't know what it was. Maybe it was a whiff of cologne, maybe it was just a feeling. I shook my head to clear it and got my mind back on work.As I headed back for my cart, I could hear Bertie and her guest going at it. Bertie was just stupid. Anyone walking down the hall could hear her moaning and grunting while the guy did her. I was the supervisor for the cleaning staff so she. Their feet had silently taken them past the walls of Paris and out into an open field off the road where a wooded patch surrounded it. It was secluded and quiet, a place where no sounds from within or without could be clearly heard. He smiled when she stopped in the center of the clearing, in a brilliant patch of sunlight that pierced through the trees and stretched catlike within it. Her fingers were folded together and reached over her head, a contented smile across her features, her hair.
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