Then I made her peel the onions. Tears rolled downher little cheeks, but she made no complaint.I opened a bottle of red wine and poured us both a glas.... She said sheliked white, but I told her white was for fish or fowl.While I cooked the steaks, I saw her go to her bag and take out herehand mirror. She carefully removed the streaks of mascara from theonion induced tears. I was very pleased with her. She sat on a kitchenchair and crossed her right knee over her left. I was impressed.. Thesteaks. Bob looked from one mirror to the other, smiling. “Ahhh, yes, baby girl.” It was then she noticed the brush in his hand. Mother’s large sliver, antique brush. He raised it over her and she cried out at the first stinging smack. Missy watched entranced in the mirror as blow after blow became a light show. The flickering candlelight and the lightening silver flashes of the brush on her ever reddening skin. She thrashed and cried, the tears on her cheeks another glistening point, like. More

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