There was scribbled writing on it. ‘Kathryn,’ it read, followed by a cellphone number. I reached for the next. It was a piece of card torn from th... corner of a menu or some such. ‘Please, please, please call me. Your Sara,’ and a number again. I felt in my pocket again, the next was also card but seemed more regularly shaped. It was a passport-type photograph of the delicate otherworldly-looking blonde girl. On the back was written, ‘Fuck me.’ There was no name, just a number. ‘What have you. Tom was and is a nice guy, who just couldn't get enough of Mary Ann when they were dating. He was also very bright and became a student at one of the University here in Philly. He graduated with some kind of engineering degree and they got engaged shortly afterwards.I liked Tom and Mary Ann, but didn't see much of them when they were first married. Mostly just at family gatherings. Their first house was nearby, but I had only been there a few times. When we did get together, Tom mostly talked. More

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