Literary Force Magazine Literary Force Magazine Volume 2 | Page 83

I met him when he sat aside me on the train that brought us from Los Angeles back
to San Francisco. He was tall, and blond- with blue eyes. I could not take my eyes
of him. On the bus ride, I told him I was coming back from seeing my mother and
he said he was moving to San Francisco since his aunt; the only person who was
left in his family had died. He said she owns a home in San Francisco near the
water and that was where he was headed. By the end of the journey, I had fallen in
love with his mind.
We agreed to meet another time perhaps for coffee. After our coffee talk,
we saw each other more often until our love affair became impossible to break.
Lester understands me. He tells me all the time how he wants me to accomplish my
dreams which are to be an independent woman and to be able to work as an art
instructor. Finally, about two months ago we came to a decision that Arthur
Charles needed to die. The plan was to make it look like a robbery. Attack him
when he goes on his two hour night jogs along the isolated Crissy Field each night.
Most of the robbery attacks in history remain unsolved and it seemed to the best
way.
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