They hurt, my eyeballs, stinging.I closed them again.'Where am I?' is such a cliche, but sometimes it fit the situation.Let's review. I was in bed, bu... it wasn't my bed. It didn't feel right. Besides, the ceiling was green. Puke green. Who would paint their ceiling puke green? It was hard to concentrate.My shoulder itched.I decided that was more important than where I was. I lifted my hand. It felt funny and I couldn't wiggle my fingers. I reached up to scratch my shoulder... "Oh, God!" I. The gentle heaving of her chest as she fought for composure mimicd mine. My eyes gently bored into hers, exchanging deep knowing glances.The waitress quietly deposited both checks on the table for me and I hastily scrawled my name on the credit card slip, glancing back quickly to see an empty table... gone. The scent of her perfume still permeated the air,but the chair sat empty. Deserted. The waitress slipped quietly away, stopping at the ladies table to pick up a scrap of napkin. "I believe. More

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