The water runs clear from the spigot over me washing inside my scars and fingerprints and into my ears. There it can sear away the filth that has been...left in my mind rotting away at me until it falls in yellow puss rivulets to the tiled floor. The tiles, once white, are now green with mildew fed from the fetid water and decorated with thick rusted needles. He left. Fine he left. Said it was my fault. I agreed. But only to him. I can’t blame myself. There was more to it than that. So much. That lane was on the west end of the Morton farm and was used by farm trucks in the spring and fall. It was also used to carry water and fuel to the crop dusters. The rest of the time it was not used and grown up with weeds and grass. We used it for fun two or three nights a week until the state - in one of it drainage improvement programs - dug up the tile and left a big ditch.We met Crash and Roger in front of the house. Crash, Norman, Jenna and Marcy inspected the interior and exterior of. More

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