I’m happy that things turned out the way they did. We both realized what we wanted and needed was each other, sleeping in the same bed. Oh Daddy,...part 3, My words about DaddyAs I lay there in daddy’s arms, listening to the beating of his heart, I recall the way momma hurt him last year. I hate her now, no one should hurt anyone the way she did, and I hope I never see her again. I’m glad I was to help daddy feel better. He doesn’t know it, but I have wanted to have sex with him for a long. This sense of being alone thus also makes her feel like she can do or say what she wants with complete anonymity, something she doesn’t think she’s felt before, or not for a long time, anyway. A moment of confusion, then: is it his dream or hers, and does it matter now? Might they not have both passed on to a realm where the consequences are nil, and the only substantive fear is waking. If some measure of guilt will result, she figures she’s already earned it, by thinking, dream-acting thus. More

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