Peri woke in the small hours of the night to the smiling face of a former love. Violence stirred her from slumber – a broken night fifteen years ago when sexuality was forced ripping and screaming. The virgin in her bed tonight had triggered something possibly the fear of being a predator, being an aggressor.

Peri wiped away the salty remnants of tears and turned to the wall. The love returned to her nuzzled and spooned tighter unaware of the any pain or tears. Peri took solace in knowing the pain he’d inflicted in the past, the tears he’d drawn, and the therapy sessions after his last departure. She could now enjoy him without being crushed by any of it. She'd allowed him to make her feel beautiful.

Missy stepped out of the hulking blue caddy, hopped over several rain puddles cast with split oil rainbows and entered Jack's Standard Station.

Each week she bought one lotto ticket for every year of her life. Today, it was 29 tickets. Next week, it would be 30. Her birthday was on Thursday and again she'd be alone. No man to warm her bed, parents buried back in New Jersey, and a child who now would be fourteen but lost to her. Alone: it is the most horrible of words.

The letcherous station attendant watched her enter the small mom and pop store. Today, her black mini seemed shorter than ever. Robert spent every Wednesday awaiting her arrival. After she bought her lotto tickets, he would imagine exploring all her pink parts. How glorious - the colour pink.

"Hello," Robert greeted.

"Oh, Hi," Missy mumbled, searching through her peacoat for her wallet. The peacoat was one she'd found in a Jersey bus station.

Maggie sat in the small beauty salon wondering when love would find her or if she'd already found it and cast it aside. The smell of deep coconut conditioner and tanning oil tickled her nose. The salon was filled with old men waiting on their wives - farmers dressed in their town clothes. The old man with an open sore on his monstrous nose was dressed in gray pants, white socks and brown shoes. The white socks reminded Maggie of her latest failed attempt at loving someone - George. No matter what he wore he was never without those damn white socks.

quite the fad and George was from MichA thirty-something woman entered the shop with a small blonde boy attached to her hand. Again with the white socks. Maggie wondered if it was a Midwest thing.