Puppy stared at the familiar crack in the ceiling above his bed. It had seemed like it had been for hours now. A Bob Dylan song was on the radio. Even though it was a little static filled, the bars of the song seemed to take a hold of him and his predicament. "I want you, darling I want you, So bad." He had never taken the time to think about love or his involvement in it. Now, he found himself with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. It was a warm, tangled knot. He always thought that was just an expression. No way did he think that this powerful mental emotion could have physical implications as well! He felt it. It hurt. It was yearning. He closed his eyes and saw her face. He saw her glorious smile. With a sigh, he sat up in bed. He glanced over to the coffeetable beside his bed. It was the only piece of furniture in this bleak white room. Complete with a record player and a chair. In front of the record player was the yellow paper christened with her name. As he stood, he thought to himself, and realized just how many of the songs on the radio were love songs. He shut it off and went into the kitchen. He walked into his empty kitchen, and opened his empty refrigerator. He felt empty. He looked in at the bare shelves dimly lit by the light from the front room. He couldn't eat. Another clever wording coming true. He couldn't think, he couldn't eat. He reached in and grabbed one of the three solo bottles of beer. He closed the door and walked back into the main room. He opened his beer, took a sip, and stared at the note. That's when his mind started working overtime. ***END OF PART SIX***