Powerful hands were stripping me, efficiently removing my rough prison dress, my bra, my wee-sodden knickers. It was midsummer; it always seemed to be...summer when my life went crazy. The cell was like an oven, and I dumbly, dazedly thought for a second that it felt good to be naked. But the woman who owned this space was crowding me, overpowering me until I found myself kneeling on the floor, my torso pinned to the bunk by an iron hard arm."I'm goin' to take a good look at my new cunt... 'old. "At dusk we drove to the band's camp. There was a large fire and I could see that the whole calf was already roasting. Two men were playing djeridoos. The lubras were putting baskets of yabbies near the pyre. There were more folks than there had been in Riverton. A very large gin in a gaudily-flowered dress ran over and hugged me."Hello, Meena. It's been too long. This is Weena and this is Patrick." I turned to Weena, "Meena is Jacky's mother." So I now Patrick's almost-granny!" she. More

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