I walk across the room and place the small glass flask on the counter, skull and crossbones out. It's like Uncle John always used to say: "Revenge makes the nightmares go away."
Voices soft One high One low Two pajama'd legs Swinging To and fro Contented He sits In a sturdy lap The world Unfolding Through the age gap Little minds Are growing Bending Old minds Are sewing Mending
He hardly spoke a word to anyone that night. That's the first thing I remember. His eyes scoured the crowd with a predator like hunger laced with a flavor of intense cynicism. That's the second thing. The third? How badly I wanted to get with his blonde friend.