He scrambled through the opening. He still tried to be quiet, but he was in a hurry.Just as he stood, a powerful, resonant voice said, “well, well, ...what do we have here?”He froze. It was the muscle freak. Goddam, goddam. He was aware of the throwing knives in his belt. That was all he had. The bow and gun were back under the tree. Shit.In the dim light of early morning, he could see the man holding a weapon on him, from maybe twenty feet away. A real gun. It looked like a HK91 to Clipper. Damn.. Look I got some things to help with your hair issues.” She dropped a plastic bag on my lap. I brought my seat upright and looked at the clock: 6:30 in the morning. I opened the bag and the first thing I pulled out was a pair scissors. Not barber scissors, plain old scissors. “What am I gonna do with this?” I asked holding up the scissors. “I’m gonna cut your hair. There’s also something inside the bag for that thing you call a beard.” She reached over and pulled out what appeared to be. Then one day he suggested we meet.I've been here before and either I chickened out or they never showed up but after a few days thinking about it I agreed. My wife was at work all day so we arranged to meet in a local coffee shop, just a quiet meet and see how it went.It was just gone three pm when I walked it, the coffee shop wasn't too busy but a quick look around and I couldn't see him anywhere so I got my usual coffee and took a seat in the corner.I was nervously fiddling with my phone,. That sucked, she told herself. Where’s the passion? Where were your arms? Why didn’t you pull me in, kiss me passionately, and do all that other stuff. Instead she said “It was nice” and she didn’t say so in any heartfelt way either. “It doesn’t sound like you mean that” he told her. “Did you want something a little more passionate or fiery?” She wouldn’t say it but he saw it in her eyes and so he did it. He leaned in, again, and this time, when he leaned in he kissed her with all the feverish.