I don’t want to eat, such an empty table. A place setting for one, the chair across from me stagnant. Is that really me? The self, the coil, the me....I am sickening. The steam is rising from the faucet now, framing my face in the mirror, a halo almost, filling out my face. I wipe a hand across one side. Clear and empty, glazed fresh and almost her. Why is she gone? I turn my hands over and under the water, it slides off my skin, so dry, almost reptilian. I can feel the heat yet I do not remove. I could feel their eyes on me, not believing their good fortune (no doubt). Which boy pulled which ribbon I don’t know, but I felt the simultaneous tug as both ribbons of my apron were pulled. My apron dropped in a small heap on the driveway. It was the exposure I was dreading. Of course, I could have easily stopped it and held onto my apron, but I just let it go – on purpose. My eyes were fixated on my lone neighbour who thankfully had his back to us. My pussy gave a gush of juice; I. More

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