The feeling of warm, almost-bursting fullness was a transformative experience, and gave a hint of transformations to come (little did I know!). Giving...her the enemas was something of an anticlimax. Then we were squeaky clean, both within and without.Amelia had lit sticks of a pungent, almost cloyingly sweet incense. The pale ribbons of violet smoke must have contained some sort of mind-altering drug. How else to explain the lassitude, the numbing euphoria that slowly took me in its embrace? She. Mom worked at the one English-language newspaper - a weekly - and something had gone wrong with the production, and she was going to have to stay late. She wouldn't be back before 9:30 or maybe even 10, when Dad would be getting home. She wanted to talk to Janet about dinner, so I put down the phone and went to Janet's room and knocked on the door. "Mom wants to talk to you," I shouted through the door. I could hear the soundtrack to "Grease" playing in her room. I hated that album. Janet and. More

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