She was the time’s type: nothing special, really; nice smile, a decent body, the obligatory long hair, almost pretty, but not quite. Seventeen and on her own, willing to trade her body for a place to crash, to get high, maybe a little food. Nothing personal about it. We laughed a few seconds together. I provided her three night’s lodging. She paid in full and moved on. I can’t remember her name. Those were the sixties.
Love Story
Mike Essig
265

Yes, those were the sixties. Although I was in the U.S. Army from 1965 to 1968, my heart was with all the pretty girls. OK, I was shallow. Still am.

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