Practice, practice, practice. Practice makes perfect.” Sue laughed at my impersonation of a strict music teacher. “Don’t think I’ll ever be p...rfect. I just want to play a little, be good enough to play something recognizable.” “Not everything I play is recognizable.” Sue asked if I played in a band, or with other musicians, but it had been a while since music had been anything other than a hobby for me. “I’d like to see you play.” Sue casually commented. “I’m sure you’re better than you’re. It sounded like Ricky my 15 year old brother. I went to Ricky’s bedroom door, which was open a fewinches and got the shock of my life. There was mybrother with his face between mom’s spread legs. She hadher hands on his head holding him there. A few secondslater mom yelled to the top of her lungs that she wascumming again. As I stood rooted in the hallway as Ricky rolled overinto a sitting position and Mom eagerly knelt in from ohhim, between his legs and moved her face down to. More

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