He handed out one of those pretty large manila envelopes. We both said ‘Hi’ at the same time. He never looked over at me. He drove away. Thank God... So then I needed to get off the street where anyone and everyone could see me so I just shoved the envelope down the back of my shorts and pulled the shirt over it to cover it up and headed back in. I thought of going back again the tricky way but then saw Mrs. Feingold out watering her flowers and thought I better not. So I just marched up through. “You can’t take any more, huh?” she said, coming up very close. “Maybe your last moments should be heavenly…” A finger pointing to her exposed, wet opening follows her words.As the owner slowly goes down, most likely slumping from exhaustion, Marjean Holden stands over him, positioning her crotch just above his face.In the distance, she can hear voices that are African-American. Possibly armed groups fighting against the initial rioters. It could be self-defense, or the beginning of a race. More

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