Sara tiptoed across the cold hardwood of the kitchen floor. The door to the patio was open and the light was on. Sara could hear the jets of the hot t...b purring and the water boiling, and something else… “Oh, fuck, yes, oh fuck, oh God, ugnnnn…” Sara recognized her mother’s voice as she crept to the window over the kitchen sink for a peak, but it took her a moment to make sense of what she was seeing out on the patio. The water was bubbling and writhing and his tall, black, muscular figure. Lindsay Collins was one of my favorite people in town. A precocious, twelve year old bundle of bones and hormones, she still played with dolls when she wasn’t driving our lone teacher crazy trying to keep up with her prodigious intellectual hunger. They were flipping through pictures on the screen and exclaiming over them. ‘Isn’t Uncle Jim handsome? All the moms think he needs a girlfriend, but he’s too busy with those dumb animals.’ I couldn’t let her answer that one. ‘Did you get some good. More

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