Free Blog: BUS STOP WHORES looked into her blue eyes, and then paused for a moment as thoughts of my youth came flooding back into my mind. Finally, I whispered " let me tell you a story about the Colonel's Widow.
The Sun was still high in the sky on this particular July Afternoon in 1962. There was a slight breeze that cooled the skin just enough to make 80 degrees seem comfortable. I was walking across a freshly manicured lawn towards a 6-foot high fence draped with bright green ivy. It would have been a perfect Friday afternoon except that I had missed one item on my checklist and now I had to make an extra stop on my way home from work. I eased the gate open and peered into the backyard of a home that was one of only four on the entire block of this exclusive neighborhood in Kenilworth, a wealthy suburb north of Chicago, Illinois.
