I asked; “Do you want to talk about this ‘excitement’ or ‘fun’ problem?” I was hurt, sad, and mostly angry so I added; “Isn’t it nice ...hat you can talk to your sister about ‘our problems’ but you can’t talk to me.”Jane started to say something, but only sobbed and ran out of the room. I heard the bedroom door close and went into the living room and sat down to think about what I had heard. I must have lost track of time because I woke up the next morning still in the chair in the living room.I. .(hesitating)Me. Nothing(Head facing floor)Mom: Nothing?Me: Nothing.Mom: I always used to think that those dried liquid marks were there on your bedsheetsbecause you blew nose on them. Now I get it how they are thereMe: silenceMom: Now get ready for school.I got ready for school and couldn’t concentrate on my classes. My mind was affixed to morning’s conversation. I had seen in many incest movies where mom tastes the dried cum of her son from his undies. I started imagining my mother doing the. More

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