Okay, I ‘got it’.” I laugh and grab the hose from Sherrie to inspect it. The rubber feels heavy and slightly bouncy, barely pliable. Sherrie rol...s the tip thoughtfully between her fingertips.“My grandmother swore by this, when we’d all get sick,when we were young.I guess she still thinks of me that way. She used to give us olive oil enemas, when we looked like we were on the mend, to re-hydrate us and fortify us *haha*we dreaded it and pretend to be weaker and sicker when she was visiting. I. With a quick, decisive push, I threw her door open wide, loudly entering her room. “Hey sis!” I called, sending her reeling in her chair. I had to admire her, she was sneaky. With one smooth motion she flung something underneath her bed and sat a little contorted in her chair, as if to cover something up. “What’re you doing?” I asked.“Nothing,” she hissed. “What do you want?” She avoided looking at me, and instead glanced nervously at her laptop, pushing her legs tight and folding her arms in. More

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