"If the rose puzzled its mind over the question how it grew, it would not have been the miracle that it is."

- J. B. Yeats

Part Two

Round (Up) Yon Virgin

The space between here and there had turned into a battle field. Missiles flew over my head from one wall to the other, resulting in loud moans and squeals. Weapons were piled on either side of me. This was war.

A mattress creaked. Someone I thought I had known draped one hand over the side of the bed. A feminine giggle made me look up. I wished I hadn't.