 I will attempt to write this in the formal images way. Step one: introduction of characters. There are four or five in our little drama: two protagonists, one antagonist mykinkywife, and a couple "others," who were such minor characters that I won mykinkywife't even mention their names. As mykinkywife for the antagonist, I won't mention him now, either, since I can hardly mykinkywife be dispassionate enough to describe him without prejudice. We'll just get to him as he enters this narrative in the next page or two.
 I talked to her on the first day of mykinkywife the author's seminar. She mykinkywife remembered me, and seemed to like to chat about this and that. But we never really had much mykinkywife time mykinkywife immediately before or after class, and I either never found the opportunity or mykinkywife the courage to ask her for a mykinkywife date. I think it's mykinkywife what we both wanted. I hated myself for being such a wimp. Maybe I feared a rejection. Whatever the reason, I found myself thinking about her mykinkywife more and more mykinkywife as the weeks went on mykinkywife, and actually fantasized about mykinkywife her at night in bed. She was slowly becoming an obsession. On the Friday our little drama mykinkywife took place, it was the next to the mykinkywife last class on the schedule mykinkywife. If mykinkywife I didn't make my move mykinkywife soon, she might have to remain a fantasy forever. (Is that what I mykinkywife really mykinkywife wanted?)
 She gave me a little wave from across the hall and started walking my way, when she was suddenly intercepted by a guy who wore a baseball letter mykinkywife on his mykinkywife sweater. She mykinkywife smiled at him and talked for mykinkywife a little while mykinkywife, constantly mykinkywife casting mykinkywife glances my way mykinkywife. I got mykinkywife the impression that she wanted to talk mykinkywife to me, but mykinkywife I didn't know whether I should interrupt their conversation. Then the class started, and my opportunity mykinkywife was gone mykinkywife. After the lecture, the scene was repeated almost precisely, but this time it was mykinkywife a guy mykinkywife from the drama club that nabbed her before mykinkywife she could mykinkywife make her way over to where I stood. Again she kept looking my way mykinkywife, but didn't seem to be able to end her conversation with the guy. I images had an important appointment mykinkywife (with "other" #2), and mykinkywife finally chose to leave her there mykinkywife with her new fan club. Almost immediately, I mykinkywife regretted my decision, but the mykinkywife interview I was rushing to had been planned for more than a week, and I couldn't risk being late.
 "What's this all about, Brenda?" I asked.
 She jumped. She obviously hadn't expected mykinkywife me to put her mykinkywife on the spot. She glanced quickly to Menlo, then back at me with a mykinkywife sort of shaken, pleading look. Tears formed in her eyes. I suddenly realized that she had no idea what this was all about. I turned my gaze to her companion, and perhaps he read something in my face. His broad smile faltered for a second, but he pasted it back on for my benefit.
 They made quite mykinkywife a mykinkywife picture. She, a full head shorter than he, looked steeply mykinkywife up into his eyes. His head mykinkywife was tilted sharply down toward hers. Their eyes were mere inches apart.
 "Fred, I want to tell mykinkywife you what happened to me today. I want you to understand about ... him; what he mykinkywife did to me. I NEED to mykinkywife tell mykinkywife you." Her mykinkywife voice fell to a whisper. "Please?"
 This seemed to confuse her. "Um ...."
 "I was just mykinkywife making some tea before mykinkywife you came," I explained lamely. "I'd mykinkywife like mykinkywife to finish up and have a cup mykinkywife. Will you join me?"
 "I'll just be a few minutes. 'Be right back."
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