I didn’t feel my hands getting in my pockets and I didn’t feel my nails forcing though the soft cotton into my red and bloody flesh. I was intoxic...ted by the rare clearness of my thoughts and compared them in my trancelike circumstance with the strong feelings I had for mummy and for sure with the animal like passion I had for all the stuff she loved as much as I did. Feelings blew up from my chest like bubbles in the warm summer and got into my mind. I swear I could feel my synapses dashing. The owner of this enterprise was a lovely woman namedCarol, a mid 30’s divorcee who was a happy-go-lucky,loud, plump red head. I found out years later she haddivorced her husband after many infidelities on hispart – divorce being something quite rare in the mid70’s in a town that was mostly still stuck in the 50’s.I started working with Carol, doing the usual things –fuelling cars, checking oil (not that I knew what thehell I was looking at, I just pulled the. More

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