All in the golden afternoon,Full leisurely we glide;For both our oars, with little skill,By little arms are plied,While little hands make vain pretens...,Our wanderings to guide.“Jefferson, I never knew you were a poet like that,” Eli said looking at him.“That was from Alice in Wonderland, “ Bill Robertson said.“Yes, have you read the works of Lewis Carroll?” Jefferson asked.“We’ve read Alice, is all. Our mother bought a copy of the book a few years ago when Jack and I were in school. We still. It was a compulsion. I slid off the chair and crawled to her side on my knees. I won’t touch her, I told myself. That had been my mistake last time. I just want to know what she smells like. I crept closer, until my face was hovering just over her lap. I could see every detail. Her little bush was trimmed so short that it hid nothing at all. She’d also shaved some of it on both sides, to reveal even more of her mound and her outer lips. Was she more swollen than usual, or always this puffy? The. More

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