When I woke up, I sat up in my car and looked to my right and there was a woman, maybe 35 or 40 years old, just pushing her bikini bottoms to the pave...ment not two car spaces away!! She had the door of her Dodge Ram truck open, shielding her from the beach and the trees at the back of the lot hid her from the access road, but I had a direct line of sight, and may I say, it was a very nice line of sight!She had a short butch hair cut and olive colored skin. She was fit too. I mean, her legs. If you let me know the cost, I’ll pay you back. I just wanted you to get the raw swab.Mom was Ann Tilden. She died a year ago in an auto accident. A drunk driver ran a red light and T-boned her car. I was old enough to remain on my own, but I had to sell our house and fold up everything that had been our way of life.Why do I think you might be my dad? Unbeknownst to me, Mom kept diaries when she was a teen, through when I was conceived and born, and after we moved out here. She talked about you. Days passed. Then weeks. No signs of a rescue and no way to call for help. Desperation started creeping into their hearts and minds. Even if they couldn’t intellectually accept outrageous ideas such as supernatural gifts from heaven, the combination of anguish and a desire to defy fate led them to wish that those fairy tales were true.On the 18 of July, 1917, six men and seven women performed the ritual to Ragaraja, driven by a desperate need for hope. It was a perverted, debaucherous, and wild. . good to see you, you sexy bitch.” She leaned over in her seat, giving her blonde best friend a kiss and slipping her some tongue before clicking on her seatbelt. “Even better without your dopey little horndog brother. Glad he’s not here. Although...” She jerked a thumb back towards Kimmy, who was obliviously bopping her head around to some strange, silent rhythm. “What’s the matter with her?”“New headphones.”“Ah.” Donna nodded in understanding. She looked glumly down at the gym bag that was.