In the living room I see mark under his old black lights watching a young girl of about 4 crying as a strange man casually rapes his daughters daycare...friend streaming across his tv while a form of electronica plays with the documentary. Shifting through the wall into Amelias room I find her right where I left her, rubbing her budding pussy lips and little rose bud of an asshole, back into her I search her mind and realize she drank her orange drink some time ago and was very thirsty, I get up. He didn’t have the clumsy look now that he had in high school, and his hair was shorter than most of the guys on campus. It seemed that most of the guys wanted a longer-haired hippie look, but Mark wore his hair short. At UK, that made him a bit distinctive. Oh, gosh, I started to realize that I felt proud to be walking with him and holding his hand. It was a different feeling than last night. Last night, walking with Mark, after dark, was sweet and romantic. Out in broad daylight, it was. More

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