“What is that, what are you doing?” I know I’m not alone in the room anymore. The rolling pins continue across my body, across my shoulders and...breasts, across my stomach and inner thighs and across my calves and feet. Then there is nothing. I can hear the sound of metal on the table. It must be the pins. “What is that? What are you doing?” Then finally your voice fills my ears as you whisper to me. “I’m going to touch you. You need to stay still and be completely quiet.” “What, wha…” . Often, they were cluttered with marginal sub-programs that would never be used. Was that something I could do as a career? It was something worth exploring for the future.Naomi and I continued to communicate by Skype, as did my mother. I could detect a note of distance in her tone now and then. I assumed it was the fact that we were apart ... both me and my family. I asked her about friends she’d made at college, but got some vague answers about other women or classmates. I wondered if she was. More

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