At last it was time to leave the office and proceed to the street again. My
breathing was inconsistent and my normal walk with the perky stride was
impossible. I alternated between almost running and slowing to a very slow
pace, trying to arrive at precisely the right time. As I approached I was
disappointed to see no one there. Suddenly, a car horn broke into my thoughts
and there you were. A Black 1957 Thunderbird, with a white top. Naturally it
was in mint condition and sparkled all over. You reached over and opened the
door for me. As I climbed inside my dress raised a little to show you my left
thigh.