Forgetting to put the keys on the hook and then losing them. Getting lost on the way to the corner store and winding up at the mall, spending two hundred dollars on clothes when she was just going out for milk and eggs. Shortening all of my relatives’ names to silly nicknames like her own. Nothing serious. I got a little more concerned when she came home from the hair salon with butter yellow hair a month before the final incident that made me ask for help.“She went to Shop Rite to do our biweekly grocery shopping. It was dark when she got back but I heard her drive up and was waiting for her to come inside before helping unload the car,” he explained plaintively, shaking his head mournfully. “I knew something was wrong when she did not come in after five minutes or so, so I went outside to find her sitting in the car with a wide-eyed look on her face and both hands pressed to the back of her head as if she were under arrest. I opened the car door and asked, ‘What’s wrong, babe?’ She. She stopped at the top of the trail and took a deep breath then casually strolled over to the outcropping of flat rocks and dropped her backpack. She walked to the edge of the Bluff and looked out over the horizon, staring out as if she was looking for someone or something then she turned back and started undressing.Her cap came off first, carefully taken off to avoid snagging her ponytail on the back of the cap. She was wearing a UC San Diego sweatshirt and as she reached down and grabbed the bottom I took two quick shots, then three more as she slowly lifted it up and over her head. Fuck she was gorgeous! When the sweatshirt was gone she was standing there in a revealing plain gray tee shirt that was bulging out in the front where her breasts pushed out the thin material. She squatted down on her haunches and pulled out a blanket from her backpack and spread it out on the rock then sat down on it and unlaced her hiking boots and pulled them off and set them aside. She rubbed her.
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