"Later that night...Frankie and Carl sat on opposite ends of the living room couch andwatched the baseball game on television. The Orioles were gettin...pummeled again. They sipped at merlot in long-stemmed wine glasses."How about a refill Frankie?" Okay."Carl retrieved the bottle from the coffee table and walked to Frankie.He poured wine into Frankie's glass and then his own, emptying thebottle. Carl sat down next to him.They continued to watch the game and sip wine. The Orioles were down. His alcohol-soaked mind made a transference. The young girl lying naked and sexually sated in the next room was no longer his young daughter. She became his tramp-ass wife, the bitch who had deserted him and their precious daughter to go shack up with that TVA man."No, damn it! She won't get away with it!" he muttered angrily.Boiling with anger, he shoved away from the table and headed for his daughter's bedroom. He was fumbling with the buckle of his belt even as he staggered through the. More

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