Jiya stood up and turned around inspecting the work that she had just done. She was an artist, an sculpture critiquing her own work. Was the thickness...uniform? Was the texture perfect? Was the color of her shit good enough for such an art work? Could she have rotated her ass a little faster while the shit fell on Mansi to do a better shape? Could she have kept the logs inside her for a longer duration? She was making mental notes of all these finer things. She took a finger in her mouth,. .. ?"I just scooped another fork of eggs into my mouth."Not really ... I'm going out with Sheila tonight," I said, "and won't be back until late."My mom just nodded. I knew that even though my father wouldn't be back until the end of the week, she'd keep herself quite busy with all of her meetings."You are doing laundry?"I nodded not really wanting to get into the details."Yeah I had some clothes to do," I said, "and I just am finishing up this morning ... I fell asleep while starting a load. More

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