Date: Thu, 06 Mar 2014 23:18:28 -0600
From: liviii@hushmail.com
Subject: Hitching a Ride South

Hitching a Ride South
A Story

I guess I finally decided to run away when I got transferred back to
that nasty group home in east Memphis for the third time.

I was tired of school where I never learned anything, tired of getting
shuffled around, tired of getting beaten up by older boys.

Hell, I got beaten up by younger boys. I'm that small. And nobody
believed I was 13, either. They assumed I was 10 or 11 and treated me
like that. It was disgusting. I did make friends with a boy named
Patrick once, but he stole some stuff and got put in juvie, so then I
didn't even have him.

On top of it all, I'm gay, pretty much, and I got called "faggot"
more often than by my real name.

So one Saturday I set out. I packed my backpack with some clothes and
fruit, took what money I had (about $20), and rode city buses as far
south into Mississippi as I could get. In Southaven I got off the bus,
made my way to I-55, and stuck out my thumb. I wasn't sure where I was
going, but it had to be someplace warm. Sleeping on the street is not
much fun when it's cold outside.

I stood there for what seemed like hours. Nobody wanted to pick up a
hitchhiker, and there were cops around so I had to watch for them and
kind of hide in the woods when I saw one coming. It was difficult.
Eventually this guy in a big car stopped, and I walked over to the
passenger-side window.

He rolled down the electric window from his side. "Where you headed,
sweetheart?" he asked.

"L.A.," I told him off the top of my head. It seemed like as good
a destination as any. The "sweetheart" thing seemed a little
weird, but I didn't say anything about it. It was going to get dark
soon, and I wasn't getting any rides, so I didn't want to mess things
up with this guy.

"I can take you as far as Jackson," he said. I got in. I didn't
know anybody in Jackson, of course, and didn't want to go there --
who the hell wants to be in Mississippi? - but is was away from
Memphis and in the right general direction. I was planning to follow
55 down to I-10, then decide which way I wanted to go, east to Florida
or west to Cali. Both South Beach and Venice seemed like good places
for a gay kid to find friends. And there is New Orleans too, and it
was a lot closer, though I didn't really want to go there.

The guy introduced himself as David, and he was not a southerner, as
you could tell from his speech. He was a salesman, sold auto parts to
small stores and mechanics. His home base was in Maryland, but he
wasn't headed home soon; after Jackson he was going to Birmingham and
Atlanta before hitting the coast and going back north. He had a route
to follow to cover his assigned area.

I'm not southern either, by the way. My parents and I had just moved
to Memphis from Ohio when they had the crash. Ran straight into a
semi, head-on. I heard that they were going 60. The trucker was going
about the same speed in the opposite direction. He jackknifed his
truck trying to stop, but it was impossible. My parents died
instantly. And my father wasn't drunk or anything, just not paying
attention. So there I was all of a sudden, 13 with no parents, no
brothers and sisters, nobody. Shit, hell, fuck and all that. I have a
grandfather someplace, and they said they were trying to find him, but
they didn't seem to try very hard. In any case, nobody had seen or
heard from him in years, so there was really nothing to go on.

I told David my name was Chris. He seemed like a decent guy, and we
were getting along pretty good. I told him my story, though I left out
some parts, I guess. David was very sympathetic. He played country
music on the radio. Not my thing, but at least it wasn't the rap shit
that the boys I'd been staying with preferred.

Then David did something really odd. He reached out and put his arm
behind my shoulders and kind of played with my hair. I hadn't had a
boyfriend yet, but I could tell what this guy was up to.

I started to get pretty worried. I mean, here was this old guy,
probably 40 or something, and he's coming on to me. Finally I said,
"Um, Chris is short for Christopher. I'm a boy." This was not the
first time I'd had to tell somebody that.

"Oh," David answered. He pulled his arm back. As I suspected, he
had thought I was a girl.

"You can just let me off at the next exit," I told him.

He just got quiet and drove on for a while, seeming to think things
over. "No, I'll take you to Jackson. It's all right," he said.
"That is, if it's all right with you."

Of course it was all right with me. He was taking me a long distance.
So I told him so. Now that things were cleared up, there didn't seem
to be any danger; he was a nice enough guy, as I said.

Well, don't you know, David's arm was right back behind me. "You're
a very good-looking boy," he said, adding, "you have pretty
hair." He was playing with it again. I hadn't had a haircut in a
while, and my hair was pretty long, I guess. It is kind of wavy and
dirty blond color.

"Um, thanks," I said. I didn't know what else to say. I guess if
he wanted to put his arm around me and play with my hair it wasn't
going to hurt anything.

"Do you mind? My doing this?" he asked.

"No, it's OK."

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, not really."

He grinned. "Boyfriend?"

"No," I said nervously. I didn't tell him I was gay, didn't want
to. I didn't know how he would react, though he seemed to be figuring
it out on his own. I didn't know what would happen. Would he get
angry? Hurt me, leave me by the side of the road? It didn't seem
probable, but this was a guy I'd never met before that day. I just
didn't know what he would do.

"I can't believe you're 13," David said. Not the first time I'd
heard that, either.

"Well, it's true."

He pulled his hand back, and we drove on for a while not saying
anything.

"My wife and I never had any kids. My ex, that is," David finally
said.

"Did you want any?"

"Would have loved to. If we could have had a boy like you." He
smiled at me. "She had other ideas. Just liked to have fun. She was
great before I married her, but she never settled down. Eventually she
ran off with somebody else. Can't say I was sorry to see her go."

"I'm sorry," I said. My turn to commiserate.

"Eh, whatever. It's not like I miss her."

He put his arm back around me, and we drove on like that. We talked
about sports and whatever. I don't play anything, of course, I'm too
small, don't follow it much either, so David did most of the talking.
He was kind of stroking my neck and shoulder by then, and it was
distracting.

David had played football in high school and college. He was an
offensive lineman, alternating between guard and tackle -- the guys
who try to screen the quarterback so he can complete a pass or
hand-off. David's college team hadn't done very well. All four years
he was there were losing seasons; his last year they finished 3-10.
David was not picked up by a pro team, and he hadn't really studied
much in college, majoring in something useless like geography or art
appreciation (I don't remember). He did have the gift of gab whenever
he wanted to use it, though, so he ended up in sales. He had done
fairly well, though he wasn't ever going to be rich.

I looked over at him. He was getting a bit of a gut, but he was still
a big guy, in good shape for his age, I guess. He was wearing a
short-sleeved shirt, and his biceps were bigger than my thighs. His
shoulders were broad and thick, and he was barrel-chested. His chin
was firm, his neck thick, and his thighs stretched the fabric of his
slacks. Of course I'd never seen him standing up, but he had to be
tall; the top of my head just about reached the bottom of his chin.
His hair was dark brown and cut short, but he had a lot of it, all
over his arms and even poking out from the open collar of his shirt.
His nose was sort of crooked, as if it had been broken in a fight and
not set right. He was clean-shaven but had a five o'clock shadow. He
was the kind of guy that would be pretty scary if he got mad, but
every time he looked at me he was smiling. He had a way of raising his
eyebrows every time he asked me a question, as if he expected an
answer, and it was important that he get it.

I was just about the opposite of him in every way. I had on a
short-sleeved shirt as well, but my arms were thin and didn't look
anything like his. I didn't have much hair yet, either, just a few
hairs above my dick. I was wearing shorts, so he could see I didn't
have hair on my legs. I couldn't help feeling small sitting next to
him. I mean, I am small, but compared to David I was tiny. It kind of
made me uncomfortable, but it was exciting at the same time.

He was looking me up and down, between glancing at the road, of
course. It made me feel kind of shy. He asked me about things I liked,
and I answered him without going into details.

By that point, it was fully dark, and we were maybe 20-30 miles from
Jackson. I told David he could let me off wherever.

He just ignored that and asked when I'd eaten last. I told him I'd had
an apple that afternoon. I hadn't been thinking about food at all, but
as soon as he mentioned it I realized that I was famished. He got off
the freeway and pulled into a restaurant. David ordered a steak for
himself and fried chicken for me, with fried okra and mashed potatoes,
cornbread on the side. I'm not a big fan of the south, but I love
southern food. And when I say David ordered for me, I mean that's
exactly what he did. I told him what I wanted, and he talked to the
waitress. I didn't say a word to her. I noticed that he called me his
son.

He asked if I had a place to sleep that night. Well, of course not,
but I'd run away before and wasn't worried about sleeping outside.

He shook his head. "Look," he said, "you're not going to get
another ride this time of night. I'm getting a motel room. You can
stay with me tonight, and tomorrow morning I'll take you back to the
interstate." He added, "Nothing will happen unless you want it to,
Christopher."

I looked at him, then down at my plate, then back at him again. He had
his eyebrows raised again, waiting for my answer. It was a pretty good
offer, I decided. "Okay," I said at last, my voice low.

He reached across the table and punched me in the shoulder. It was a
friendly gesture, but David was such a big guy that he practically
knocked me over. "Great! It will be great having someone around."
He explained that with his job he was alone almost all the time, which
was why he liked to pick up hitchhikers. "I like you, Chris. We can
get some popcorn and watch a movie. It'll be fun."

We finished up with some pecan pie and were back on the road. Now that
my stomach was full, I started to nod off. I had been very much on
edge but was calmer now for some reason. It seemed like David was
taking care of everything, and there was nothing to worry about.

At some point, David got off the interstate and onto city streets. I
was actually asleep when he got off the freeway, but the car starting
and stopping woke me up. I didn't know Jackson at all and realized
that I didn't know where we were or where we were going. David seemed
to know, however. As good as his word, David stopped at a store along
the way and got a big bag of popcorn, with some Cokes for me and beer
for him.

The motel was a reasonably nice place, though somewhat off the beaten
track and therefore relatively cheap. The desk clerk recognized David;
apparently he always stayed there when he was in town. David explained
that he was taking his son with him on this trip, so he needed a room
for two people. A few minutes later, we were in the room with his
suitcase and my backpack.

David went to the bathroom to take a leak and clean up some, while I
looked at the channel guide on the TV and tried to pick a movie for
us. I settled on a war movie of some sort on HBO. Obviously, neither
of us would want to watch anything girly.

At that point, David came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but his
boxer shorts. If anything, he was even bigger and hairier than he
looked with clothes on. I tried not to stare at him, but he was an
imposing figure. I showed him the movie I'd picked. He said he'd seen
it already, but he didn't mind seeing it again.

"Why don't you go get freshened up, Chris? We're going to be getting
an early start tomorrow. There's plenty of towels and hot water, and
the movie doesn't start for half an hour yet." He seemed to think
for a minute. "Do you have any shampoo with you? This motel doesn't
provide any. You can use mine if not." Of course, I didn't have any;
I had forgotten to bring shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrush, all that
stuff. So David dug his shampoo out of his suitcase and handed it to
me.

I didn't think I was all that stinky, but David was doing nice things
for me, so I guess to please him I went and took a shower. It was like
I didn't have a choice anyway since he was making the decisions. Not
that I minded -- it just seemed natural that he would take charge.
Moreover, he had shaved and washed up, though he hadn't showered
himself. So he was clean, and I should be too.

As I showered, I realized once again that I was potentially in a lot
of trouble. David was huge compared to me and could easily do me
serious harm. Furthermore, he clearly found me attractive in spite of
the fact that he was not homosexual.

But in spite of my fear, or perhaps because of it, I was hard as a
rock. The situation was scary, but exciting too. And I seemed to get
hard at the drop of a hat in any case; that's the way it is when
you're 13. So I beat off there in the shower and let one loose. I
needed to take the edge off, so to speak.

I finished and dried off, then discovered that I'd forgotten to bring
my backpack in with me to put clean clothes on. I normally sleep in my
underwear anyway, but I didn't want to put the dirty ones back on.
Somewhat irritated with myself, I wrapped up in a towel and went out
to dig some clean underwear out of the backpack.

The TV was on but muted, and David was going over materials for his
sales presentation the following day. He looked over at me.
"Something wrong, Chris?" he asked.

"No, I'm just getting some clothes to wear."

"You don't need to get dressed. We're not going anywhere."

"I'm just getting some underwear. I don't like to put on dirty
clothes."

"Oh, OK," he said, but kept looking at me. I hadn't stared at him,
but he had no problem looking me over. The towel was fluffy but not
that big, so when I wrapped around my waist it left a kind of slit up
the side. It didn't leave much to the imagination, I guess. I blushed.

I found some briefs and a t-shirt and took them back to the bathroom
to get dressed. I was getting hard again and didn't want David to see
it, but there didn't seem to be any way out. So I just went back out
and put the dirty clothes in my backpack, trying to ignore his eyes on
me the whole time.

David had picked his bed and had his sales materials spread all over
it, so I went over and laid down on the other one. The movie was going
to start in a few minutes. David collected his stuff and put it away.

"Coke or beer?" he asked me, holding a can of each in either hand.
Beer? Hell, yeah! I hadn't drunk alcoholic beverages very often, but I
was very nervous, and the beer would calm me down some. I took a big
gulp and almost choked.

David grinned. "Take it easy, kid," he said, "you don't want to
drown yourself." He took a beer for himself and got out the bag of
popcorn.
"Why don't you come over and sit next to me?" he asked. "That
way we can share the popcorn."

Well, that was logical, I guess. I mean, we couldn't really pass it
back and forth between the two beds without getting up and down. So I
grabbed the two pillows from my bed and went over to sit next to
David. He found a blanket in the closet and put it over us. That (and
the beer) made me feel better. At least we were covered up so we
couldn't look at each other then. David put the bag of popcorn between
us. The nightstand was on his side, so he had a place to set his beer
while I did not. I just held it in my lap.

The movie started. The opening scene was a battle. A couple guys were
in a foxhole getting shot at and shooting back. The enemy tossed a
grenade in the foxhole, killing one guy and injuring the other. It was
a very bloody scene. I'd seen violent movies before, of course, but
the gore in this one was over the top. I kind of regretted my
selection then, but then I thought that all the violence would keep
our minds on the movie rather than other things. Other things that I
wasn't sure I wanted to get into. Things that I really didn't know
much about.

I hadn't drunk very much, having only had alcohol on a few occasions,
like my parents giving me a glass of champagne on New Years' Eve, that
sort of thing, so after one beer I was feeling pretty good.
Nevertheless, the movie just got worse and worse as far as all the
blood and guts in it. I was like
turning away from the goriest parts.

David looked over at me. He could tell I wasn't liking the movie that
much. He put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him, which made
me feel better. When he finished his beer, he got up to get another
one for himself, but he got a Coke for me. He said he didn't think I
should drink another whole beer right then, but I could have some of
his if I wanted. So I took a swig or two from his beer but mostly
drank Coke from then on.

David kept his arm around me the whole time, and after a while I
noticed that his leg was touching mine under the blanket. I didn't
know where this was going, but I wanted to find out, sort of, so I
didn't pull away from him but didn't encourage him either. I couldn't
be sure, but it looked like he was hard under the blanket.

Eventually I noticed that David was watching me rather than the movie.
He had pulled my head to his chest by then so that I was practically
sitting in his lap. We were in contact from head to toe. He was
looking down at me so I had to kind of twist my neck to look back at
him. "Want to watch something else?" he said, his deep voice soft
and gentle.

"Could we?" I asked. "I don't really like this movie." I felt
like a little kid.

"Sure, Christopher." He took the remote and switched over to a
comedy. Much better. I drank another beer, and we were both laughing
at the show.

Then David kissed me on the top of the head. I didn't know what to say
or do about that, so I didn't say anything, just snuggled closer to
let him know it was okay with me. I guess at that point whatever he
wanted to do was fine with me.

The commercial came on. I turned on my side facing David and kind of
played with the hairs on his chest. He was so furry he was like a huge
teddy bear. I looked up at David to see that he was looking down at me
with a grin on his face.
"We could have more fun with the TV off," he said.

"Okay," I answered.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want," he went on.

"Okay," I repeated. Whatever he wanted was OK with me. Yeah, I was
feeling the alcohol.

David turned the TV off. The sudden silence felt odd. Nobody was
staying in the adjoining rooms, so there was no noise from either
side. David put both arms around me then and hugged me close. I tried
to hug him back, but I was on top, he was underneath, and I couldn't
reach between him and the bed.

"You're a very beautiful boy, Christopher," he said. I knew people
(some) thought I was pretty, but it had always annoyed me before.
Somehow when David said it, though, it sounded like a very nice
compliment.

"Um, thanks," I told him, not knowing what to say. Returning the
compliment didn't seem right -- he was a man, after all, and not
beautiful or pretty. I touched his arm. "You have big muscles."

He pulled back the blanket, and I climbed all the way on top of him.
He covered us back up again. "That's not the only thing that's big
about me," he said, grinning.

I could feel what he was talking about, between my thighs. It was
definitely hard and as big as the rest of him. For that matter, I was
hard too, and he had to be able to feel that as well since it was
poking his belly. "You don't mind that I'm a boy?" I asked.

"Not at all," he replied. He stroked my hair. "You're a very
special boy, Christopher. I've never met a boy like you." He reached
under my t-shirt and stroked my back. Then he kissed me again, on the
lips this time.

"So what do I do?" I asked him.

"You've never done it before?" I shook my head. "With
anybody?" I shook my head again.

He looked at me for a minute. "Do whatever you want, sweetie," he
said.

So I just kind of explored his body. I ran my hand down his cheek to
his neck and chest. I sat up on his hipbones and felt both of his
strong shoulders with my hands, then followed his big arms down to his
wrists. I couldn't reach his hands since they were on me, under my
shirt, feeling my sides. I put my hands on his chest and felt the hair
between my fingers, then followed the trail down to his bellybutton.

David pulled his legs up, and I leaned back against them. I could feel
his dick poking me in the back. I ran my hands down his sides, from
his armpits to the waistband of his boxers. David, meanwhile, had
moved his hands and was stroking my thighs. My legs were folded on
either side of him.

He pulled me down for another kiss. I could feel his tongue between my
lips. He reached up and gently pulled my jaw down, and his tongue
entered my mouth. Again, I didn't know what to do. And again, I didn't
want him to stop. So I tried to do the same as him and put my tongue
in his mouth. That didn't work since I couldn't get past his tongue
and lips. I ended up just kind of licking the underside of his tongue
while he explored my mouth.

David finally broke the kiss and lifted me back into a sitting
position. He took ahold of the hem of my shirt and lifted it up. I
held up my arms so he could take it off me. It was almost like my
mother used to do when I was little and she was giving me a bath. He
tossed it by the side of the bed. He felt my shoulders and arms, then
put his hands on my chest, slowly reaching around to my back. They
kept moving lower and lower. When he reached the waistband of my
briefs, he continued down outside the cloth, squeezing my bottom.

I laid back down on top of him, and we kissed some more. I seemed to
be learning how it was done, or at least David seemed happy with the
way I was doing it. He kept running his hands over my back, down over
my underwear-covered bottom to the top of my thighs and back up again.

It seemed like he was doing all the work, and I wasn't doing all that
much for him. I reached behind me and gave his cock a squeeze. David
moaned.

"It's better if we're naked, sweetie," he said.

Wow. It seemed like it was all fun and games up to that point, but if
we were naked together it would be serious. I wasn't sure if I wanted
to go all the way yet, whatever that was. But I didn't want to
disappoint David either. And I was horned up like crazy. So I just
said "okay" again.

I guess he could hear the worry in my voice. "I won't hurt you,"
he reassured me. "We can stop whenever you want. If I do anything
you don't like, tell me and I'll stop."

I answered him by climbing off the bed and pulling my briefs off. The
blanket was thrown to the side in the process, so I could see David in
full. His cock was enormous, or so it seemed to me, and it was making
a big tent in his boxers. He teased me by pulling his shorts partly
off, then pulling them back up again, smirking the whole time. I
laughed at him, then grabbed the waistband of his boxers and pulled
them down myself. He made an act of trying to stop me, but he wasn't
trying hard at all, and it wasn't long before I had his underwear off
and was waving them triumphantly in the air, grinning at him.

David reached out and grabbed me, pulling me back onto the bed. I
landed with a bounce, giggling, then was back on top of him in a
flash. He was right, it was better this way. We started kissing again,
but while David's hands were all over my body, I was just hugging him
and kind of moving my hips against him, grinding my hard dick into his
belly. His cock was moving between my thighs, going between my butt
cheeks on each upstroke.

I knew what he was after (I knew the mechanics from the Internet, of
course), but there was no way it was going to happen. It was
physically impossible. He was just too big and I was too small. I
worried that I wouldn't be able to please him. By then I was sure he
wasn't going to force me, but I didn't want to have to say "no"
and disappoint him.

Before I could really finish that thought, however, David took the
lead again. "Turn around, sweetie," he said. I didn't understand
right away what he meant, but eventually I was pointed the opposite
way, toward his feet, while my feet were above his head, hitting the
headboard.

And I was face to face with the monster itself. I didn't really know
how big it was, but I was pretty sure it was above average. This was a
whole new part of him that I hadn't explored before, so I ran my hands
from his knees down to his groin, then handled his balls. They were
the size of ping-pong balls but covered by a forest of hair. They felt
very warm in my hands. For his part, David was running his hands
across my back, then down over my naked bottom and down my thighs,
then back up again.

"Kiss it," he said, his voice different this time. It was an
order, not gentle at all. In fact, it was almost a growl.

I took his cock in my right hand and held it away from his body, then
planted a kiss right on the end of it.

"Oh, yeah, kid, keep that up," he said, so I kissed the tip again.
I then pulled it to one side and kissed it all the way down the shaft,
then pulled it to the other side and kissed it all the way back up.

David definitely liked that but did not reciprocate; in fact, given
the difference in our sizes it would have been difficult for him to do
so. His interest seemed to lie elsewhere in any case. I felt wetness
on my bottom, then realized he was licking me back there. This man was
licking my butt!

It was the wildest thing I'd ever experienced, even better than the
roller coasters at Cedar Point. I decided to top him. I took the end
of his cock in my mouth and sucked on it.

"Oh my God, Chrissie, that's good ... keep that up, use your hands
too," he said. I didn't even mind him calling me by a girl's name.
He liked what I was doing, and it was a big boost to my ego. I didn't
know what I was doing, but somehow I was doing it right anyhow.

David pulled my butt cheeks apart and started licking between them. Of
course, I was clean from showering earlier, but still ... the idea
that a man was licking my bottomhole, apparently without a care in the
world, about set me off. I knew that if I touched my dick, or David
did, I would erupt then and there -- and I didn't want things to end
yet. I sucked him harder and stroked him while doing so. He moaned.

Not long after I felt another sensation behind me. Something was
poking around my bottomhole, and it wasn't a tongue. David was putting
his finger inside me. It was wet, my hole was too, and it slipped in
easily. I was almost dizzy.

I sucked David as hard as I could, then remembered reading about using
your tongue, so I licked the underside of his dickhead as I sucked on
it. He was leaking like crazy, and I was slurping it all down like
soda from a straw.

David entered me with two fingers then, and I couldn't hold back. I
shot all over David's chest and belly without even touching myself.

I was sorry I couldn't stop myself since David hadn't come yet, so I
continued with what I was doing. And David continued with what he was
doing. He was rubbing something inside me that was making me wild in
spite of the fact that I'd come already.

At last David came too. "Arrgh," he sort of "said," though it
was more of a growl. The volume of his stuff was surprising. It filled
my mouth, so I pulled off and watched the rest of it spurt out. It was
all over my face and neck, all over his groin, even running down his
cock. I ended up swallowing what was in my mouth since I didn't know
what else to do with it.

We laid there for a few minutes, both too exhausted to move. He
slapped me on the butt. "Get back up here, Chrissie," he said. I
turned back around to face him. "God, you are so pretty with a face
full of cum," he said. He licked some of it off my face and kissed
me.

After a while, we went into the bathroom to clean up. It was a bath
this time. David got in first, then I
got in and sat in his lap while he washed me; then I got off, he sat
up, and I washed him. He did not get fully hard in the bath, but he
wasn't completely soft either. I, meanwhile, got hard as a rock once
more. He had me stand up and beat off in front of him, stroking his
cock the whole time as he watched. Then he told me to do the same to
him, so I stroked him with my hand until he came a second time as
well.

We eventually got clean somehow, and dried off. David went out and put
his boxers on. I went to put my underwear back on as well.

He stopped me. "I want you to stay naked," he said. "I like
looking at you, Chrissie." So that's what I did.

And I never got back into my bed that night. I got in bed with David
and rolled onto my side. He moved up behind me and put his arm over
me. We fell asleep like that.

The next morning, David took me to breakfast down the street. I was
afraid he would call me "Chrissie" in public, but he didn't.

I guess the rest of the story isn't all that important. Suffice to
say, I never got to L.A. or even New Orleans. But I did get to
Birmingham, and Atlanta, and Charleston ...

(The End)

Thanks for reading. If you have any comments, send them to me at
liviii@hushmail.com.