I really needed a word for people I occupied during these visions, especially if I was going to keep doing this. Subjects? Hosts? Hosts. That worked. ...y host was walking down a tunnel cut through the dirt and stone. One hand held a flashlight and the other held a revolver. In front of him, awash in the pale hand held light walked my mother and Josh Cavanaugh, their hands cupped behind their heads."You don't have to do this," my mother said. She was trying to sound calm, but an undercurrent of. I reached into the refrigerator and ostentatiously pulled out two bottles of water. No beer tonight.I watched her pull down some plates, wishing I could see more of her under the big shirt. I had taken the precaution of beating off this morning, twice, just so I wouldn’t leap on her like the horny bastard I was. But a little cuddle wouldn’t hurt.As she dished out the enchiladas, I slid my hands under the front of her blouse and encountered something unexpected. From the waist up, she was. More

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