W. was a frumpy, lumpy old redhead, with a wide ass and a prominent boob shelf jutting from the shapeless sack dresses she wore. To my nineteen year ...ld self, she seemed ancient, although I suppose she was somewhere in her late fifties to early sixties.My room was on the third floor of the old house, sort of an attic under the roof with sloping ceiling and two dormer windows. There were two overseas grad students on the second floor, who I rarely encountered, and Mrs. W. resided on the main. . I..." She looked over at the barista. She was doing something with the espresso machine, paying Hannah no attention."Prove it."Hannah drew in a shaky breath. Her hand clutched the hem of her skirt where it swung back from the point of her knee. She swallowed and turned towards Conrad, away from the bright windows. "Yes," she said. "That will do it. That will make it... make me stop. One last time, right here." She pulled the hem of her skirt up, slowly, along the side of her thigh, her eyes. More

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