I suggested that a twelve gauge was a bit heavy for a woman to handle and that they might look at twenties or even a four ten. The pistols were better... choices for women to use being thirty-two revolvers. Steve and Ben kept the shotguns and the women picked out smaller bore ones. We loaded up on ammunition, cleaning supplies, and anything else we could find that looked useful. Everyone then went to the clothing area and picked up some fresh clothing. Cathy stopped me and asked, "Would you. While her team scoured the remote desert near the Persian Gulf in shorts and tank tops, she reserved herself to a white polo and khaki pants. This was not due to a lack of body confidence. Dr. Anderson had a tall limber frame fron years of long hikes to archeological dig sites, and her b-cup breasts and ass were the better for it, but that was for herself and the occasional boyfriend she managed to avoid pushing away for a few weeks to see, not her staff. She currently was standing over a map. Now, what gives with you and Thule? Are you two an item." Like I said, it's..." I know," interrupted Dawn. "It's complicated. So, how is it complicated?"Marigold started to explain, avoiding the delicate areas. The more she explained, the less she avoided. Dawn asked a few questions, but was for the most part non-judgemental. And Marigold desperately needed someone to talk to.After Marigold had poured out her heart, Dawn said, "I know that should be awful, but you make it sound so.... This conversation might not be happening in real time, but is actually something that occurred a hundred years ago and I am currently remembering it in real time.But memories cannot exist without the mind. A movie cannot exist if the disk or tape it’s imprinted on doesn’t exist. Therefor, if I am a memory, a continuous memory being relived from some point in the future, then that memory must go on forever. Maybe the memory doesn’t stop… just because my body stops. The only way this memory can.