There is no stitch work hiding them. When I suggested to her ways of removing them, she nodded sadly, but never took action.It was under the bed that ... found the letters.They were written while Kisara was in college - older than I would have suspected for someone who 'died young'. They spoke mostly of obvious, girlish things - clothes, studies, and of course boys.Two very specific boys.The early letters discussed 'Buro' - a name I would never have associated with Uncle until Anzu referred to. I was a happy sailor ready to assume the duties of Husband and Father. Ha, not so fast.Being separated from MaryAnn for so long, I was not very good in picking up on her state of mind or moods. I did know she was not the same Southern Illinois housewife that I left nearly two and half years earlier. The welcome home sex was not what I had looked forward to those long months at sea. I got the distinct impression her mind was someplace else while we were fucking. She was jumpy, moody, and not as. More

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