Not even close Jenny.” He said shaking his head grinly.I didn’t particularly care for being called by my first name by him, but I let it go being curious.“Why then?” I said.“Well...” he looked oddly shy and apprehensive now, quite unlike himself. Trying to find words for half a minute he finally said, “Maybe I’ll tell you later in the evening.”“Ok then,” I said and shrugged.Again we were back to the TV. I sipped my wine and he sipped his coke silently. The problem was our flirting had gotten me a bit wet. Every stolen glance fanned the flames more. I just wanted to go upstairs and masturbate.“Have you called John, it’s been an hour you know,” I said turning to him.“Yeah, I sent him a message. He’ll be here soon,” he said.We resumed watching TV, chatting and laughing and flirting. He showered me with compliments and kept checking me out; I had to admit I loved the attention. This wasn’t like me, but my body was used to sex on Fridays, and I had half a bottle of wine in me already. He. I wondered if he had simply paused the playback, or if he had indeed stopped time itself.“Neither,” he said as if reading my thoughts. “I simply moved the two of us outside of time. For us, each second lasts an hour and so on and so forth...”Now what are you smiling about?”he asked.“The sound the old black guy heard, the one that pissed him off...” I began. It was good to know that my memories were with me even in death. Some things could apparently never be taken from me.“What about the sound,” he asked impatiently.“Only one thing sounds like that,” I smiled. “Somebody in that neighborhood was driving a Mustang. And it’s been modified. The motor sounds like it’s cammed and that is definitely not the factory exhaust system.”“Shut up,” he said. “We have no time for your trivial gibberish.” He waved his hand again, and the events on the screen continued.The old black man looked angrily over his shoulder as a heavily modified Mustang drive into view. The car was amazing. The body was a.
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