The children she cries for! Is it not better

to remain part of the cycle? We reach for the

bitterness of the test, for the result. Joy!

Joy! I'm eating, I'm eating. (Then stop

eating!) She'd roll over and shave

her legs, the witch behind every wisteria.

And Rick, Joe, Bob, Don, Dave,

what of them? Joanne? Her perfume sample?

Here, I am Aunt Lynette, my mother now

gone to where they put the infirm, the

women too old to breed. Say?

Say? She is the lizard out on the lanai.

You know the shame: how they and the minks

serve men and now we serve them. I figured

this is life and went back to my meatballs.