DAMN! "You're not getting off that easy," she said. "Admit that you were just staring at my tits, dad." Well Jesus, you just took it out right in fron... of me," I shot back. "How was I not supposed to look?" Did it turn you on?" she asked bluntly."Turn me on?" I faked a gasp and I turned again to face the congregation happily singing and oblivious to what we were discussing. "Jazelle, you're my daughter." That's not what I asked dad," she pressed. There was silence for a long while and I didn't. Her boyfriend stepped away. She watched his form mingle with the shapes, lose its coherence, vanish.She stood awkward and nervous. She imagined herself the object of curiosity, dressed in a floral patterned skirt, red flowers on a black background, knee length, black pumps with low heels and a form hugging dark red sweater, its neckline displaying a v of white skin. A wisp of brown hair hung before her left eye, she brushed it back, her white hand shifted from blur to distinct then back to. More

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