.. ," she began."Laura, you're going to have to stop this," I said, taking a long slug of straight scotch."Her name was Karen. She had a drug problem;...I didn't know how bad it was..." Laura, damn it, I'm not going to listen to this."She threw back the remaining liquid in her glass and looked at me as if to say, 'really?'I watched her pick up my wallet again, knowing there was only 15 dollars left. Having sold my car, I had bought a rail ticket and put the rest of my money in traveler's checks,. The body turns to me and I feel an arm over my chest and a warm body creeps close to me. As a protective wing I put my arm over her and stroking her back repeatedly until she stops talking, so the silence returns in the bedroom.Her arm across my chest feels warm and I follow with a finger the vertical and horizontal scars on her wrists. Fading wounds of an earlier life, an unhappy life. Although these physical scars fade some wounds remain open. Even if she seek professional help, it takes time. More

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