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I often left the store in a cube van, so June would ask me to pick up the other two daughters from school or other events. Things in the family became stressed when the middle daughter got into d**gs. My boss' response to it was eating dinner in front of the TV (away from the family) or taking off to watch sporting events in other cities. June needed someone to talk with and I was more than happy to give my ear. On occasions the boss would take the younger k**s with him, so June and I would arrange to attend a dinner theater, or movie. Our friendship grew. First thing we would do when seeing each other was hug. One night it was just June and myself at her house, talking. Suddenly she said "I need a hug". i was more than happy to oblige, but this was not a normal hug... we kissed... and kissed. Her hands slid under my shirt. At that moment we heard the front door unlocking. It was the youngest daughter coming home. I had quickly run around the corner to straighten my shirt, then the. John took one last look around his Spartan room in the Crowne Plaza in Helsinki. Fuck Finland was one damn cold place in December. No wonder these people consumed so much Vodka and Aquavit since it probably helped to keep their blood flowing; it was human anti-freeze. John grabbed his LV garment bag, slung it over his shoulder and rushed to catch his car to the airport. If he missed his flight to Murmansk he’d be truly fucked. The Aeroflot flight only went once a week so John figured he’d better to be at the airport early to be safe instead of sorry. John departed yet another dreary hotel hoping things could get better; at least he was on holiday that was something, right? John had decided some time ago that when “the date” came if he needed to “go out” he was going to go out somewhere special, somewhere unique. Anatoly’s idea of “on the top of the world” had struck the perfect note in John’s otherwise discordant mind. No, not metaphorically “on top of the world” as in the song by.
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We entered what looked exactly like a poor old woman’s apartment supposed to look. Pieces of wet laundry hung on strings. The walls were covered with a once decorative layer of papery material, which peeled in large sections off the wall. A moldy, organic odor with a slight sour and rancid smell hung in the air. There was a tiny living room that was decorated with cheap plastic and ceramic knick knacks of alien design and smudgy seat cushions instead of a sofa or chairs.An old looking electronic boxy looking device with a flat 2D screen flickered grainy pictures of a military parade. A door led out from the living room onto a tiny balcony, with barely enough room for a person to stand. A flimsy looking rusty railing missing several pieces appeared to be an awfully inadequate safety measure. The vista from her balcony was as depressing as the rest of the apartment. All one could see was the brick wall of another building just like this less than five meters distance. I was sure this.

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