He was a preacher in a fundamentalist church. I assured him that I was pure as the falling snow – and to make sure he believed me I used an old Ital...an trick I read about in a book. I took a small vial of chicken blood to bed with me on our wedding night and spotted the sheets with it. Don had sundered my hymen with his unauthorized entry, but in my heart I was still a virgin. So, I was deceitful, but the ends justify the means, don't they? It was in the interest of becoming the perfect. I was not dressed for being outside, but I didn’t care. I just sat down in a snow bank and kept thinking boy, I sure made a mess out of our lives. I guess I sat there for fifteen minutes, and finally, the door open. Sherry wanted to know what I was doing, I was wet and cold, shaking really bad. This time she put the wood in the stove. I strip down to my long johns wrapped up in a blanket and put my clothes behind the stove to dry. I looked at Sherry, she had been crying too, her eyes were red. More

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