Pretty soon, I was back downstairs.I remember the feeling, my first real arousal of my life. I was so excited, so scared, so fascinated. I didn't know...what to do, but I knew what I wanted.Finally I went into the refrigeration room and looked at him again.His name was Jacob. That's what it said on his toe tag. I remember touching his foot, callused and cold, and feeling a delicious rush of excitement.I slid my hand up under the sheet, feeling along his cold, hard leg. He was like a statue, only. But that is not entirely so, because a stranger wouldn’t be torn in two. A stranger wouldn’t care. A stranger would dash to get out of the rain and think more of themselves and their discomfort after baring witness. Instead I forget my own discomfort and stare mindlessly into my worst nightmare come true. I am not a stranger. Like it or not, I am an integral part of what is being played out before me. And even though I do not know her, and I have never met her, so is she. Suddenly she feels. More

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