But Dusty and I felt safe with him, even when life was cruel. Dad prepared us to discover ourselves like a sculptor finds a shape in stone. In fact, I...found that art was my passion too. It’s what I wanted to study in college and to do in life.I love the sensual and erotic themes in the paintings and photos and sculpture I look at. I love the vibrant colors and the moody pastels, the smooth metal and the rough stone. I crave the immersion in the world of creation.And so I got ready to leave for. He was older than her, slender, mid-seventies, she thought. Dressed in a gray coat with black piping around the collar and a black Trilby hat on his head, he looked like a true gentleman from an age long ago in her youth.He smiled, removing his hat, intelligent pale blue eyes alert, looking at her. With a smile, he extended his hand.“Hello, Betty. I’ve come to have a chat with you.”From years of politeness, Betty shook his proffered hand. She noticed his fingernails were spotlessly clean and. More

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