HIGHLIGHTS:
Y'all'll gets a new car on Monday."
"I don't know how I'll be able to drive it with my arm in a cast," Bruce Lucent
shoots back. "It's lucky I wasn't killed outright like so many people are when they have
horrid automobile wrecks."
"Fortunately, fast and efficient Emergency Medical Services, based on a program
founded by Lyndon Baines Johnson the 36th President of the United States helped y'all
survive an otherwise, deadly crash," Isadore chuckled. He nodded his head toward the
towering apartment building, in the very shadow of Peachtree Avenue, where Bruce lived
his luxurious life. So young, yet so wealthy, based on his skills as an expert software
developer.
He opened his eyes.
All he saw was the roundest, firmest pair of tittles he?d ever seen in his life, all
enclosed in a crisp white nurse?s uniform.
I?m in heaven, he said. No, he tried to say, but his voice wouldn?t work, his
mouth was dry, and there was some terrible tube thing in his nose?and hey, what?s that
thing in his dick? It hurts!
The tits bounced like Aunt Alice?s molded jello back at home, and then moved
away. Oh. She was just straightening the covers on the bed.
Bed.
Bruce realized he laid in a bed, his left arm being strapped down, with something
sticking an up-a tube--on the top of his hand.
Author