Our travel time was seven days on good roads. During this time, we only saw two smallish family groups of about a dozen people each. We gave them our radio information though we never heard from them again.There were some herds of horses that we had never seen before in our travels. Their owners must have set them free and, with the empty fields and broken fences, they had had plenty to eat. We had seen a healthy horse fight off a small pack of dogs.As we approached Lexington, my worry level increased. Our experiences with cities had not been good. Arnie and Melody redoubled their efforts in scouting and had taken more people with them to teach them how to travel. Poor Shirley violated one of Arnie's lessons in watching activities before engaging new people. This lesson had been driven home. The concern I had was the deserted nature of the land and its ability to sustain a community or communities. Where were the people? This question came to me again and again as we traveled through. He brought it in and placed it next to her keyboard. It was the smallest of details, a simple romantic gesture – and it seduced her spirit. She bathed in the calming essence of lavender, washed her long hair in the hot water – used a new blade to shave her legs. Poured conditioner into her palm, smoothed it over the mound and plush folds between her thighs, and carefully stroked the razor across bare flesh. Completely shaven. She stood in front of the mirror – drew the brush through tangled strands of hair, using a blow dryer until dark sable and cherry strands fell in shiny disarray to her shoulders. She pulled the long, loose bangs back with a clip – he liked to see her face. He selected the visual entertainment, fully aware that his choice would imprint her subconscious mind and affect her senses. She heard music in her head – erotic instrumentals, alluring poetry fancied into soulful melodies – and she wanted to dance with him. The perfume, reminiscent of an absolute obsession –.
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