He does not look like an artist, I realise. He looks like a construction worker or a carpenter, he looks strong, he looks like he could make any mater...al bend to his whim.He turns his head slowly, a mock smile playing on his lips. His head is bald, but his features are dark, there will be a growth of hair in a few hours, and it will attest to a dark-haired youth.I look at my watch. Only 4 pm, but fuck it, Nicola needs to go.The bell chimes above the door, and like liquid Nicola is gone.I am. "Not in My Bed!" George yelled and jumped up. "That's just Nasty! You've had those on all day! I don't want to smell Your Stinky-Butt Undies all night!"That's when I started to cry. I wanted to go home. I didn't want to be there any more! I wanted My Mommy! I knew George felt bad,because He was patting me on my shoulder,telling me how sorry he was when His Daddy came into the den."Here,here...what's going on?" Donny wants to go home." George stammered. I was glad He said it,because I was. More

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