When he pokes it out at me, I like to touch it. Would you like to touch Hanks cock? I was terrified but intrigued. I had no memory of ever having see... a penis, let alone touching one. However, I knew that he was an adult and I was supposed to do what he asked, and that was the driving factor behind my answer. Okay, I replied timidly. I walked across the porch to Hank and stood in front of him, seated in his chair. His dick began to peek out another inch from his shorts leg, as it grew in. And so, a chapel filled with a million spoke meaningless gibberish when we attempted to mourn and speak our greatest grief at losing our gift, our Muse. It seems ironic to me that the one moment when all wanted to cherish and remember the cause of letters loved, and stories told, when it was absolutely obligatory to paint our grief in the words she gave us, those words ran dry. I wept. No, I keened because the words I needed were gone. When I needed them the most, the fled and I babbled. More

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