I'd often find myself mimicing Grandpa by clutching at my crotch through my shorts, there was something about the big burly men on the telly in their ...ight trunks, all sweaty and glistening as they grappled with each other, grunting and straining. Nana would tell me to leave myself alone or itd drop off. Grandpa would tell her to stop mithering and that 'The lad knows what he likes ". Sometimes Nana would go upstairs for a nap if she had " One of her heads " and it was on these occasions when. Trust wasn’t in my vocabulary, but I could talk to her. She was okay. She hadn’t done anything to me.I skipped dinner and went to bed early, feeling light-headed. I knew I’d been running on rage and adrenaline all day. I wanted to sleep, but I kept hearing her bantering with the men she was fucking.I watched the sunrise and I poured myself a cup of the cold coffee I’d made yesterday. It was rancid, but I drank it cold rather than make a fresh pot. I didn’t think I’d ever eat again. Maybe that. More

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