She felt like the kick lifted her off the ground, and she landed again on the hard pavement, soaking her ripped cloths in the dirty water.--- "Hurting...also works for us." --- the man said, and the two men started to kick her.The kicked her all over her legs, her stomach, back, and even her face. She tried to cover herself with her hands, but it didn't help. When they finally stopped, she was curled like a fetus, with a bleeding nose and bruises. She then felt one of the men take her hands. After those tears she hadn’t cried, even once, during the two weeks that she had stayed with her Aunt, caring for her during her last moments of life, talking and laughing and remembering little things and big things, and just doing the best they could do for each other. Nor had she cried the morning she found Aunt Jean had slipped away quietly in her sleep, when Abe had nudged at her hand in the eerily silent pre-dawn until she had roused enough to follow the subdued pet to Jean’s room. And no. More

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