‘This paper…represents…all of the crap…including the guilt…shame…anger…and fear…associated…with the molestation…experience…that ...ncle Ned…put Jolene through. Come down here, Jolene.’ I patted the carpet next to me. Jolene let the blanket fall, and she curled up next to me. God she’s so beautiful. I handed her the paper with the written words that I had spoken. She read over them and looked up at me. ‘Light a match,’ I said and held them out to her. I took the paper from her hands and folded it. Sweat poured profusely from his brow as his Easter pink British spread shirt began to soak up the excess. Beside him sat a blonde with short hair, a simple bright blue blouse and a generic black skirt. She had the audacity to wear flats to this meeting which must mean she was either married or prude. Checking her watch, then her phone I deduced the former. The color on her blouse felt arrogant to me, though it may not have been meant to be so. I’m taking it to mean such, which is fine by me as. More

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