Or hooked you up to the laptop in Iraq,or the time I left you during that fucking mortar attack.I've had you in shitholes where things weren't so nice....Or when we partied in Dubai with women, drinks and ice.We froze together out on the Khyber Pass,as you kept entertaining my frostbitten ass.Or the time we drove with the diplomat from DoD?That weak moron shit that persistently had to pee?You played many things and many a mellow track...translators now sing Sinatra tunes deep in Iraq.With. He had emigrated to the United States and had set up a factory in Pittsburgh, becoming very rich in the process. Now a very wealthy lady and, having spent many summers in France as a child, it was because of her love of that country that she took an interest in the young Frenchman seated beside her. She asked him to tell her a bit about himself, talking to him in his native language, but she saw that he was extremely reticent about it. Never mind, she thought to herself, he will speak when he. They just took her to St. Elizabeth's Hospital, but an EMT said it doesn't look good.'"Thanks I'd better get there." Can I ask you some questions?"As Bret was running to his car he shouted, "See me at the hospital."Bret drove to the hospital exceeding the posted speed limit. He said a few prayers along the way that Kim would be okay.At the emergency room, he asked the nurse on duty about Kimberly Jackson who was brought in about twenty minutes ago. The nurse looked at some paperwork she had in. When the music slowed, it seemed entirely natural to follow Mike's lead and slip into his arms for a waltz. It felt good to be held in his arms, moving in time, despite the discreet distance we maintained.We began with a basic box step, then Mike segued into a grapevine which ended in a twirl that left me breathless. Grinning, he pulled me back into his embrace and a basic box once more."You're good at this!"He winked. "I may or may not have had to learn that for my cousin's wedding.I squeezed.