Everyone was still sleeping around her. Dommi turned to her left, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Lake Michigan was whipped into a froth by ...he wind, and the grayness of the day had deepened. Dommi raised her head slightly to see a clock.6:10.“Up and at them, sex machines,” she said. “Fifty minutes until supper.”“Do we have to, Dommi?” Carol asked sleepily, already getting up.“Yep, meeting with our hostess to make. Get the shower going, and let’s pray for lots of hot water.”Other than. Do you think mommy and daddy care? There was a short silence that was occasionally interupted with her litle sobs. No. She began to cry, gasping for air and scratching at the passenger window. The dumb little shit had no idea that people outside couldnt see inside, the windows had heavy tinting. This is your lucky day, whore. I said. Now finally you can live the way you write. Oh yes, I know about the poetry you write. About rape, submission and pain. I know you all too well, Moriah. Now you. More

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