She was gleefully the center of attention. I stood propping my door open watching as the young lady I'd fathered and raised slowly started unbuttoning...her blouse. She hung it over the door of her locker and reached back deftly to pop the clasp of her bra. With one swift motion it not only popped free it fell down her arms and she tossed it into her locker.The next to go was her skirt. She undid the zipper at her side and let it fall to the ground. She lifted it up with her foot and tossed it in. Perhaps they started in third grade, when a horsey faced teacher would read to the class, after lunch, about the hundred-acre wood... and the adventures of that same bear and his friends. Her voice would gently transport her surrogate children to that far away place. A place where there was always so much to do... count all the bees in the hive... chase all the clouds from the sky. His mind snapped back to the present. He could not afford to let it drift today of all days. He, along with the. More

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