Chapter 1

A little adventure at home.

I misspent a great deal of my youth in inner-space. There I learned about "Trails" and what happens in alternative realities. Consider this...

My wife and I are walking to the park when our inner-space manifests itself. We can see us before us and behind us in the myriads of realities that exist in inner-space. There is a line of us that is walking past the courthouse eight blocks away ... the hill and sidewalk curve and we are lost to sight but our inner-space knows that we are already playing in the park. The line of us behind us is coming out the door of Harry's Apartments. All of us live there. They are all us ... but slightly not us.

Each inner-space you is different ... sort of you, but slightly changed. Perhaps you are wearing blue shorts and a white tee. The you 50 places behind is wearing white shorts and a blue tee. The you's in between morph to make the change. The You fifty places ahead might be wearing jeans and a black tee.

There is a problem though. There is a street you must cross and there is a car coming. Do you just go? Remember, all the you's behind must cross the street too, and there's a car coming. It's a brand new 1966 Ford.

"I can't spend the rest of my day protecting them." My wife said, "They'll just have to watch out for themselves."

"Huh?" I questioned, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Them." She pointed behind her, "The other mes, the ones behind me. Can't you see them?"

Did I mention that this is her first trip? I bet I forgot that part.

"Well, what are you going to do about the you's in front of you? You can't leave them stuck in the street."

"Oh my," she said. "I didn't see them! I'd better hurry!"

When she got to the corner, she turned around and watched.

"Oh! Car bowling. How exciting! OW! I bet that hurt!"

I forgot to mention she's missing a few cards in her deck ... a couple of rounds short of a full clip. Don't get me wrong. She's really smart, just ... different.

We finally get up the hill to the corner of Walker and Clinton ... where she stops. East on Walker is the Fire Station and Carnegie Public Library Building. It's also City Hall and the Police Station.

"Oh!" she exclaims. "That IS pretty. Come look. See what I found! I've been looking for that color all my life!"

"Where?" I asked.

"There," she points. I look ... she continues, "The lights in front of the Fire Station. Isn't that the most amazing red you've ever seen?"

"Wow!" I exclaimed. "That's beautiful."

We stand and gaze at the really cool red ... it's great.

"There's one problem though," I said.

"What's that?"

"It's Saturday and everyone is staring at us."

"But it's such a pretty red! Oh. There's Kurt ... and his sister! Kurt! Vickie!! We're going to the park to swing and play on the toys ... wanna come?"

I said, "Vick is such a babe!"

"Yes, she is, and she has such sweet nipples!"

"How do you know?"

She just grinned.

Kurt is 6 foot 7 and broom handle thin. He's a drummer and very good. He can touch his thumb and finger around a basketball, too.

You know what they say about hands and dick size.

Vickie is almost five feet three and wearing one of her signature see-through tops. She sews them up herself and she's getting good at it. When she first started making them, she did a lot of embroidery in strategic spots. Now she doesn't bother. Vickie has very round breasts and puffy pink nipples and they are alert this fine afternoon.

"Vick!" I said, "I could admire your chest all day."

She threw her shoulders back and took a deep breath. The old farmer coming towards us walked into a parking meter ... I'll bet THAT hurt!

"YES! Do that, Vick!"

Now the trails are four people, wild! Evidently, alternate realities can change with circumstances. It makes you wonder about Car Bowling.

After we cleared the crowds and got past the Court House, Kurt asked, "What is your wife on?"

"What makes you ask that, Kurt?" I asked.

"Well ... you can see the rainbows in her eyes and she giggles a lot," explained Kurt.

"She giggles a lot anyway ... but it's her first trip," I explained.

"Got any more?" asked Kurt, "I'll trade you Vickie for a couple of hits."

"Can we keep her?" I asked.

"Yes," said the wife. "Can we keep her? Oh, Vickie, can we keep you? Please?"

Vickie said, "Probably, Mom said she'd sell me for two cents. But she says that a lot lately."

We all laughed. Vickie turned to the wife and said, "Can I come home with you? I do dishes and windows." She turned to me, "Can I come with you too? Kurt says I give great head."