It was the image of a naked goddess, or semi-naked goddess, draped only in a clinging saree-cloth that barely concealed her rubenesque curves. Even in...this tiny size, the clarity of detail was amazing. She was standing in the yogic lotus position, the sole of one foot resting on the inside thigh of the other one. She had ix arms, and all of them held different mythical weapons, none of which Karen recognized. Her face was a terrible mask of hatred and rage. Her eyes large and glaring, more. "Joan, who's Joan? Or are you talking to yourself again dear?" my fatherasked her. Mom laughed and asked Dad whether he had forgotten that mymiddle name was indeed Joan. Dad simply looked at her as if she'd losther mind and continued eating. As hungry as I was I simply couldn'tstomach pork chops. Mom looked at me sympathetically, but simply focusedon the food in front of her. I sat there and slowly played with the foodon my plate wishing that the dog would appear by my side so I could feedher. More

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