.you know what I’m talking about.”“I...I...didn’t do anything wrong.”“I’m afraid others think you did.”“No. No! They attacked me. T...ey sat on my face. They even farted on my---”Lowbrenner burst into laughter. “Ah heh-heh, well pity you, I guess. But that’s your concern, not mine. That’s not what I'm talking about.”If I could have become a fart myself and dissipated into the air, I would have.“What I was referring to was you trespassing where poor boys like you don’t belong.” There was. Oscar had left his on the floor too, so I took them all and put them in the washing machine. Back in the kitchen, Oscar had had a glass of wine as well, and the pasta was boiling away nicely. I tasted the sauce, and added a little sugar--you know how the tomatoes can get too tart (sorry--rambling again). Anyway, we sat down at the kitchen table and I served us up some dinner. Oscar poured us some more wine. “If I have any more I won’t be able to drive home.” “Oh. I thought you were staying. I. More

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