I glared at my brother, who settled into his familiar megalomania, feeling he’d won a battle of maturity. I can only explain his gratification by as...uming he is jealous. Yes, that’s it. Jealous, because at 40, he has been divorced twice, both times taken for all he had, and has virtually no artistic talents with the exception of holiday lawn ornaments which he cuts out of wood. Even then he uses a pattern. Good old-fashioned jealousy once again strikes the hearts of my family members as they. I am getting used to the daily routine. Joe arrives early, I hear muffled sounds of him tending the other stalls and then my door opens, I have learnt to obey as he attaches a chain leash to my nipple rings and leads me out to the corral yard. This exercise routine happens every day, some days twice, the yard is a mess, sloppy like a pig pen, my bare feet follow his gum boots. I have fallen before, face down it is not pretty so now I try to ignore the scum between building my toes as I keep. More

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