”Sherry asked the other one, “What’s your name, and are you from here in Las Vegas too?”“I’m Crystal, and yes, I live here.”“Are you t...ins?” Sherry asked her.“No, though we do look alike, she’s a year younger.”Sherry asked Cheryl, “Would you be willing to play a little game, if you knew you’d have a chance to win a Jerry Helton Signature white shirt, and possibly some free casino tokens?”“Do you have shirts that will fit us. As you can see, we have big busts.”“We have shirts that will fit both. Might be good for all of us authors to do so once in awhile.I posted a story a few days ago titled 'Unintentional Consequences',which was just a continuation of one I wrote long ago called 'Shoes &Socks'. That one didn't receive much in the way of reviews, so I assumedthe subject matter was not interesting to most of you. So I guess I sortof 'tricked' you by writing it again with a new title, but with addeddetails and surprises. Guess it was my way of seeing if a story that isnot so interesting. Her tomb is in a hidden corner of our garden. There is a whispered rumor that her voice had been heard from the tomb for many days after my father had buried her there. The tomb is built of granite, only half immersed into the earth, with small ventilation holes in its padlocked heavy and now rusted iron door, so she might have been heard had she still lived, but I have never met anyone who whispered that they had heard her themselves, only that they had heard the tale. I have always shunned. Ms Angelo (that’s the vice-principal’s name) was wearing one of those black sexy office dresses that really bring out your body and make all the boys drool (although I was close to drooling myself) and the fact that she was wearing high heels didn’t help much . In fact I was staring at Ms Angelo’s swaying hips as she made her way to her desk and sat behind it. Apparently I was so evident that Ms Angelo shot me a quizzical look.“Sit down, please.”I quickly obeyed her and sat down.“Do you know.
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