I've owned a tiny futon store in a small mall in the downtown area of a rather bantam city. This little hole in the wall had been my peaceful, get-away for nearly ten years. I rarely received attention from tourists, let alone the other business owners. I didn't bother anyone, and no one really bothered me. I kind of liked it like that.
             Things always have a way of being good for a long time.... and then not being so good. I suppose I may be overexaggerating over what happened on that silly Monday afternoon. But then again, I may not be.
             I was sitting at my slightly hidden desk, the same way I had done for the past ten years or so without being bothered. I wasn't really working on anything because there wasn't really anything to work on, but I sat there anyway and did my best to appear to be busy.
             Then it happened. Like a drip of black ink on a sunset canvas, they entered the store. A young man and woman of about twenty years of age, both of whom I had never seen before, unknowingly changed my life forever.
             "Do you mind if we argue on your couch?" the woman asked as she sat herself down on the dark purple double flexifold futon. She was strangely beautiful and I found myself quickly looking away from her, as to avoid the hint that she had intrigued me.
             "No," I mumbled, "Go ahead." I don't even think she acknowledged my response because she had already assumed that it was alright. She tugged sharply on the young man's sweatshirt sleeve and he sat.
             "How dare you?!" she inquired, "How dare you even ponder the thought in your mind, you sonofabitch?!" She wasn't yelling. She was loud and clear, like a trumpet solo in "A Night in Tunisia".
             At first, I had sort of assumed that the young man that she was angry with had been her brother.... twin perhaps. They stood at about the same height, both with straight blonde hair and somber brown eyes.... hers were much more strikin
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