Authors: Jean Bedford
Di
d
I
eve
r
describ
e
m
y
parent
s
t
o
yo
u?
Th
e
wa
y
the
y
looke
d?I
don’
t
remembe
r
yo
u
eve
r
askin
g
m
e
t
o.
Sometime
s
I
ca
n
hardl
y
pictur
e
the
m.
A
t
othe
r
time
s,
lik
e
no
w,
the
y
stan
d
clearl
y
i
n
fron
t
o
f
m
e
.
M
y
fathe
r
wa
s
a
bi
g
ma
n,
fa
t,
wit
h
a
squar
e
fla
t
fac
e
an
d
pal
e,
thinnin
g
hai
r.
H
e
ha
d
hug
e
hand
s,
roug
h
fro
m
al
l
th
e
far
m
wor
k.
Hi
s
finger
s
wer
e
lik
e
uncooke
d
sausage
s,
mottle
d
pin
k
an
d
whit
e.
Hi
s
fles
h
wa
s
past
y;
h
e
neve
r
acquire
d
a
ta
n
i
n
al
l
thos
e
year
s
o
f
workin
g
outsid
e
al
l
da
y.
H
e
ha
d
th
e
European’
s
distrus
t
o
f
th
e
su
n
an
d
alway
s
wor
e
clothin
g
tha
t
almos
t
completel
y
covere
d
hi
m,
a
s
wel
l
a
s
a
wid
e-
brimme
d
stra
w
ha
t.
Ye
t
you’
d
thin
k
he’
d
hav
e
take
n
o
n
som
e
colou
r,
wouldn’
t
yo
u
?
Hi
s
bod
y
wa
s
almos
t
hairles
s,
jus
t
on
e
smal
l
wisp
y
patc
h
a
t
th
e
to
p
o
f
hi
s
ches
t.
W
e
too
k
ou
r
weekl
y
bath
s
togethe
r
yo
u
understan
d,
an
d
I
woul
d
hav
e
t
o
soa
p
hi
m
al
l
ove
r,
the
n
wip
e
of
f
th
e
sud
s
wit
h
th
e
tattere
d
grea
t
se
a
spong
e
he’
d
ha
d
sinc
e
h
e
wa
s
o
n
th
e
boat
s.
H
e
like
d
m
e
t
o
masturbat
e
hi
m
wit
h
soap
y
hand
s
the
n
lightl
y
spong
e
hi
m
ther
e.
Eve
n
wit
h
hi
s
finger
s
u
p
m
y
ars
e
thes
e
wer
e
strangel
y
gentl
e,
almos
t
playfu
l
time
s
i
n
th
e
bat
h,
th
e
neares
t
h
e
eve
r
cam
e
t
o
an
y
tendernes
s,
an
d
I
woul
d
b
e
fille
d
wit
h
gratitud
e
a
t
pleasin
g
hi
m.
O
n
thos
e
night
s
I
woul
d
no
t
b
e
afrai
d
o
f
th
e
cupboar
d
o
r
th
e
whi
p,
o
r
tha
t
h
e
woul
d
rap
e
m
e
roughl
y
i
n
m
y
slee
p
.
M
y
mothe
r
wa
s
a
smal
l,
mostl
y
silen
t
woma
n.
He
r
hai
r
wa
s
i
n
lon
g
braid
s
tha
t
sh
e
pinne
d
tightl
y
roun
d
he
r
hea
d.I
neve
r
sa
w
he
r
loose
n
the
m,
thoug
h
sh
e
mus
t
hav
e
fo
r
sleepin
g.
Sh
e
alway
s
wor
e
hig
h-
collare
d
shirtwais
t
dresse
s
an
d
heav
y
stocking
s,
whateve
r
th
e
weathe
r.
I
f
i
t
wa
s
ver
y
col
d
sh
e
woul
d
pu
t
o
n
a
thic
k
blac
k
shaw
l,
tyin
g
it
s
end
s
aroun
d
he
r
wais
t
t
o
fre
e
he
r
hand
s
fo
r
th
e
housewor
k.I
neve
r
sa
w
he
r
undresse
d,
no
t
eve
n
i
n
on
e
o
f
th
e
ampl
e
flanne
l
nightgown
s
tha
t
weekl
y
adorne
d
th
e
clotheslin
e
. A
sa
chil
d
I
assume
d
sh
e
neve
r
slep
t
.
I
n
th
e
night
s
I
spen
t
i
n
th
e
cupboar
d
I
woul
d
b
e
awar
e
o
f
he
r
sof
t
passin
g
footstep
s
righ
t
u
p
unti
l
th
e
tim
e
I
silentl
y
crie
d
mysel
f
t
o
exhauste
d
slee
p.I
neve
r
calle
d
ou
t
t
o
he
r.
She neve
r
hugge
d
m
e;
sh
e
hardl
y
eve
r
touche
d
m
e.
M
y
fathe
r
wa
s
th
e
physica
l
on
e,
bu
t
sh
e
wa
s
ofte
n
th
e
instigato
r
o
f
hi
s
punishment
s.
Ther
e
wa
s
veno
m
i
n
he
r
voic
e
whe
n
sh
e
threatene
d
m
e
wit
h
wha
t
h
e
woul
d
d
o
whe
n
h
e
cam
e
insid
e
an
d
sh
e
tol
d
hi
m
abou
t
m
y
lates
t
crime
s.
Sh
e
gre
w
loquaciou
s
the
n,
an
d
he
r
eye
s
sparkle
d
wit
h
he
r
promise
s
.