I could smoke weed and jerk off at home if nothing better came along. Hey, it was my own place. No worries about who was coming in unexpectedly. I lov...d the freedom. I was coming home from my local bar one Saturday night, solo this time. As usual I stopped at the newsagent at 79th and First Ave which got the early editions of the Sunday NY Times. And this night I picked up a couple of skin mags to read later. Folded them into my paper for the couple of blocks walk home. Those days, that was it. “What’s his name?” she asked, eager to hear stories from the real world and not this sick reality they were stuck in now. Jenna smiled, “Not a he, her name is Hannah. We’ve been dating for three years.”“Is she pretty?” Dasha asked. Jenna nodded. “Beautiful,” she said wistfully.“So what’s your story?” Morgan asked. “How did this happen?” she motion around at their surroundings.“Me and Hannah were in the cemetery. We always went there after school to do homework and, you know, make out. We both. More

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