‘You stole it, you bitch. I order you to tell me the bank, the account number, everything.’ In anger, he will struggle to remember my secret terse...code that should make me submit to his orders once uttered. ‘Feline fingers furiously fuck fowls,’ my husband will say again and again as if it would affect me, as if it were a programmed code that could be told to me. I will laugh and giggle lost in a future world. He will stand wanting to throw the table over. It will be too heavy. Mr. Green’s. When she told me she was done, Iwent to my room and stayed there.Friday morning all mom said was that she wanted me to come straighthome, and I could guess why. There was no use fighting it, we were allgoing to lose the battle, and I resigned myself to my fate. In schoolthat day eight of the ten "volunteers" came together at lunch. Itseems I was right. Our mothers all told us about the same thing. Theonly one that was actually looking forward to this was Steve. He wasso eager that I wanted to. More

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