" Time will tell," she advised him. "And I'll be the final judge aboutit. But for right now, get that rosebud stretcher greased up and show mehow yo... put it in."His lips began to quiver. He didn't want to do that. Especially not infront of her. How could she ever respect him after witnessing such ahumiliating act? But she was waiting expectantly. There had been anencouraging smile on her face but now it was fading away, being graduallyreplaced by a disapproving expression."All right," he. But it was just a moment, then I let the smile spread, the smile that my Mom had told me seemed to spread just a bit too far. My mischief smile. His office had no windows, and it was the small office of a man who has been in the system his entire life. Beige walls, fading color prints of outdoor scenes of places he may or may not ever go, the obligatory photo of his wife and family, boxes and file cabinets, and papers, and so much stuff, it was a wonder the man didn't loose his mind. Hell, I. More

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