<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FFBF00">Ernest Glen Stevens</span></span></div><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #FFBF00">Professor Stevens</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i1343.photobucket.com/albums/o793/Galvin_Fugazi/0b949cc1-f3e3-4b2b-9453-c391a496997f_zps8c4edb79.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/><span style="color: #FFBF00">"I...I do wish I could be with my children. I worry that I'll never see them again. I know they'll be okay in my wife's hands, but still I won't be able to see them grow up. It is probably better that way though...haven't really been the best person. All I am leaving behind is a tarnished reputation and an unhappy wife,"</span>Ernest seemed rather clinical in his explanation of what he was leaving behind. It looked as if he had thought long and hard about his life and the choices he had made.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFBF00">"But, as you said...this is a rather interesting place. If we ever do make it back, this adventure could save my entire life. My reputation wouldn't be cleaned, but I would have respect back from the educational community. It isn't much but it would be a step in the right direction--assuming we would even be able to speak of this experience,"</span>Ernest had just finished packing his bag and threw it over his shoulder.<span style="color: #FFBF00"> "What of you? Certainly leaving behind your career can't be easy...or do you prefer this freedom?"</span>