<div class="floatleft"><div align="center">(http://www.mediafire.com/convkey/132c/qanv0vlare944wbzg.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><strong>Jaclyn Rosendahl</strong></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">Entrepreneur<br/><em>About Jaclyn</em> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=289408.msg14241614#msg14241614)<br/> ‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾ </span></span></div></div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… after 11 … what could she want at this hour …<br/><br/>… she enters the tent … steps toward the chair … and … and doesn’t sit … and takes another step … so close! … so hot! … alarms going off! … closer … put up one hand … weakly …</em></span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">  “O-Oli–livia please, um …”</span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… ‘don’t’ is struggling to find my voice … Dr. Kyle seems to stand behind me with an accusing hand, pointing … my whole yearns toward her … my hand flutters between us …</em></span></span><br/>