Tears that I was equally unaware of. I was in a state of shock, unable to accept that it was MY mother in the casket; my mum, the only person in my wo...ld that I could talk to. Talk to about anything and everything. The only person who really cared about me.I was angry, an extremely selfish anger. I didn't care how her death affected others, not my father, not even my fifteen year old younger brother. I could only think how I was affected. My anger was directed at the car driver and his. Some aspects have been embellished for entertainment purposes. We met in Houston's Mining Company, a neutral enough place; an alternative to preppy affluence, Millennial pretense, or leather convention."You don't look like a bottom," Steve said and leaned back to get a better look at my ass. "On second thought, you certainly have a bottom's ass." Why, thank you—Hey!" I said without much conviction.He smiled.I melted.(My name is Stanley Kubrick, no relation to the famous director. At the time of. More

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