It was well past midnight. I awoke with a start as a silhouette appeared in my dorm room doorway. My heart pounded as a person approached, knelt at my bed and whispered, “Help me.” The person was a blond, carefree college senior whom I had befriended at several parties. We were drawn together by a shared interest in jazz and poetry - at a time when most of our peers thought Gerry and the Pacemakers were revolutionary. He was, it seemed, the coolest cat on campus and I was flattered that he paid attention to me.
Blood on Their Hands
Blood on Their Hands
Blood on Their Hands
It was well past midnight. I awoke with a start as a silhouette appeared in my dorm room doorway. My heart pounded as a person approached, knelt at my bed and whispered, “Help me.” The person was a blond, carefree college senior whom I had befriended at several parties. We were drawn together by a shared interest in jazz and poetry - at a time when most of our peers thought Gerry and the Pacemakers were revolutionary. He was, it seemed, the coolest cat on campus and I was flattered that he paid attention to me.