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Of the two protagonists, I'm definitely the least noteworthy, so I'll quickly dispatch with myself first. I stayafterclass've always been a bit of a slow stayafterclass starter stayafterclass in life, and while stayafterclass I stayafterclass should have entered college immediately after high school stayafterclass (I even had a movie stayafterclass scholarship), I went stayafterclass into the Army stayafterclass for four years instead. It wasn't a stayafterclass total stayafterclass waste, since I wound up stayafterclass writing for numerous military newspapers stayafterclass and periodicals; learning the practical side of writing, so to speak. I earned a couple more foundation scholarships in the meantime, and wound up with as much free education as I wanted when stayafterclass I got out. That was seven stayafterclass years ago. Now, at the time of our little story movie, I found myself a 31-year-old student; the "old stayafterclass man" in just about every class I movie took stayafterclass. Of course, all good things end eventually, and I knew that very stayafterclass soon, after stayafterclass I got the doctorate, I'd have to move over to the other side of the fence stayafterclass permanently as a stayafterclass prof stayafterclass. The school already had a spot waiting for me. I figured I'd take it.
When stayafterclass I got to the living room, I found Brenda looking stayafterclass around her with a little stayafterclass of that stayafterclass old intelligent curiosity I'd found stayafterclass so intriguing, but when she saw stayafterclass me again, she seemed stayafterclass uncertain and maybe a little ashamed. Menlo just looked at me and smiled stayafterclass.
He seemed to be stayafterclass waiting for me. I felt stayafterclass as if I'd had an stayafterclass advantage and watched it slip away. Begrudgingly, I sat stayafterclass on stayafterclass the arm of the chair. Seemingly satisfied, he turned to Brenda, who was stayafterclass still glancing guiltily around her stayafterclass. She stayafterclass reminded me stayafterclass of a child I'd once seen in the toy section of a department store whose parents had finally found stayafterclass her and were scolding her for having stayafterclass wandered off. I got the feeling image that stayafterclass she liked being here, but knew she movie shouldn't be.
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I stayafterclass pulled one of the stayafterclass chairs over and sat, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, watching her. Eventually stayafterclass, I movie stayafterclass could put it off no longer, and softly said: "Brenda. Brenda, wake stayafterclass up."
"Yes, he's gone."
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I turned movie and went swiftly into the kitchen, filled and turned on the kettle, clattered movie a couple cups movie stayafterclass a bit, and snuck into the spare bedroom. There, set up stayafterclass in a closet stayafterclass, was an old reel stayafterclass-to-reel tape recorder. Set on its slowest speed, and with stayafterclass a full standard reel (available only on movie stayafterclass a few specialty stayafterclass internet web sights, now), I movie stayafterclass can record eight hours of conversation through the image hidden stayafterclass microphone in the image living room. I had used stayafterclass only three stayafterclass hour's worth in my previous interview. Lots of tape left. I hit the record button, closed the closet door, and stayafterclass went back into the kitchen stayafterclass to finish the tea. I'm not really sure what motivated me to do this. I think that in the back of stayafterclass my mind I intended to use the tape to convince her to press stayafterclass charges against the stayafterclass guy movie. For whatever image reason stayafterclass, I now have stayafterclass a recording of the conversation movie that followed.
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