I am going to wake up and…’ Lynn swirled her tongue around as she puckered. Then stretched her neck out and spit to test: how far it fell. She got...quiet and listened, ‘Splat!’ ‘That doesn’t feel like a dream,’ she said as the saliva conformed to gravity and slid between her toes. Pooling in a hanging teardrop then dropped. ‘Damn-it!’ She screamed in utter anger. She spit again, farther out and listen attentively. Her head move slowly in the dark so that her ears had the front row seat to. My mother washolding a small leather bag, the kind you take on trips to hold yourtoiletries. She had a big smile here face and told me how much she lovedseeing me with my hair in a turban and my towel wrapped girly styleacross my breasts. Her words: Breasts. Similar tableaus were takingplace at the door of each of the Unworthys in my group. My sisters eachtook hold of one of my arms and our procession walked slowly deeper intothe "Flowering Hall". I was hoping my towel over my breasts stayed. More

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