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circa 1729 B.C. She stares at the ground as she walks, face aflame. The baby bump is becoming unmistakable, and she's heard the whispers. With a stealthy glance, she looks at him and her face hardens as she takes in his glare of self-righteous disdain. Her grip tightens around her aces: the three personal items she's kept that belong to him - these will prove she wasn't alone in her sin. *** hundreds of years later, circa 1451 B.C. She watches as the two men cautiously che

In ’81, the story goes, A little baby girl was born Who lifted up her downy head “I’ll be your little girl,” she said. The decade flew, as decades will, The little girl was babbling still And asking why’s—of N-P-K, Of FDR, and JFK. The years stretched on. And still she grew And her vocabulary too Till she regaled his willing ears With college notes and culture fears. And then the girl, all grown, you see Returned as two, and then as three, And now the questions really came F

“Locking my keys in would figure,” said Emma as she caught herself right before the door slammed. She reached back in, grabbed the keys, slammed the door and hightailed it into the dockside restaurant. The hostess was busy, so Emma cleared her throat enough times behind the large party ahead of her that they glanced back at her, opening a lane through. She rushed ahead and asked the girl which direction the rehearsal dinner party was. On her way back to the reserved room, sh