As it was her day and hers alone, she wore nothing under her dress. Alone and buoyant, she jumped on the swing and sang the first song that came in t... her head: Papa was a rolling stone/Wherever he lay his hat was his home. On and on, she sang. Her voice rising, the only sound around. She swung higher and higher. The hem of her dress flying open. The breeze caressing her wide open legs, wreaking havoc on her ability to remember the words. She did not much care, as it turns out. It was not just. The first cook withdrew his penis but the pressure on my shoulders didn’t’ lessen and I knew they hadn’t finished with me. The second cook was soon inside me . The other two waiters and the other cook were cheering him on and he was saying things in Spanish that I couldn’t understand, but I can guess they were calling me a whore and slut and things like that. I didn’t care. It’s not as though I’d ever see them again. He had hold of my thighs at the side of me bottom and was pulling me back on. More

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