Jessica Wright dumped her tired body into the decorator-designed barrel-based leather chair at the closest corner of the plush loft-type apartment, kicked her shoes off onto the Persian carpet that stretched across the huge room and panted to regain her breath. It was nearly ten o'clock, and she had been on her feet, mostly in front of banks of bright lights and flashing strobes since nine this morning. But she wasn't really tired; physically a little worn out, but that would pass. What counted was inside and there she felt nothing but contentment and happiness at her new life. Across the room, a half dozen of her more recent magazine covers, blown up into enormous proportions by some of the guys down at Dodge Company, dominated the room. The stereo system was blaring at peak capacity, and she knew what that meant... her husband Phillip, was working. He was the only commercial artist she knew who insisted on ear-splitting decibels before he could settle down to work.She tried to. At first, I thought I wouldn't have to worry about going to school, but he got all the books and lessons from town, and that's how I got my education. I'd go in with him every four or five months and take exams at the local school office. It's funny, because I always thought their tests were so easy, but I found out, after they gave me my graduation diploma, that it was because Dad made me work a lot harder than the kids in town had to. At first, I was a little pissed, but looking back, it taught me the value of hard work and thoroughness."I thought about moving back into town after I got my diploma and finding some kind of work, then heading off on my own. But for some reason, I just couldn't do it. Dad was my best friend, I guess, and the thought of not being around him didn't sit well with me. So I stayed, helped with the chores, and learned how to fend for myself with the stuff he taught me. Some people wonder how a guy can live out here, all by himself. But the animals and the.
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