Some how the IV in his belly monitored his blood pressure as it also gave him a steady diet of glucose. A thicker tube came out of his mouth and conne...ted him to a breathing machine. The machine was breathing for him because his own lungs were too immature. One more tube had been inserted in his left nostril. His small face was covered in tape. A stocking cap, like an elf’s, covered his head. I stared at him through the plastic box they called an isolette. According to the doctor, it would be. “That’s better,” she sighed, but broke free and stood up. She wrenched the bathrobe off and tossed it onto the chair.“See?” she said. “The whole package. Just like the waitresses and chambermaids. Only no one is interested in Mrs. Turner.”Her hand worked its way down her stomach and into her abundant black pubic hair. Her body was generously upholstered but not fat, and the milky skin was smooth and clean.“Take your clothes off, Peter,” she urged. “You’re making me feel uncomfortable.” I. More

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