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There were no details, none of Mark ’s acerbic observations, no jokes. Just a cryptic subject line and that terse message. Be home by 10 PM. Got to...tell you something. I looked at my watch. It was nearly eight o’clock. A few of my colleagues in the History Department were in their cubicles. The department chairman, Henry Townsend, Ph.D., poked his head into my cubicle just as I was shutting down my computer. “Hey, James,” he said casually, “calling it a night?” “Yes, Henry,” I replied as I. Steady he was with no ring on his finger and a body that women would hunger for. I was still taken by his words that came out of his mouth. In someway I felt different around him. I couldn't put my eye on it but it was something. Perhaps he felt it too especially when have been talking to each other now over a hour. Taylor asked if I wanted a drink and I had to deny his generosity due to the fact that I wasn't a drinker, but then he said nether was he. We smiled at each other and laughed. So as. More

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