I’d tried to pinpoint when life became so mechanical, so methodical. When had the thrill of being alive left my soul? When had I stopped smelling th... roses? Fourteen people had gone together to Africa, not counting Bob. We’d traveled to various villages and orphanages. It was a gut-wrenching, sad experience, the kind that cleanses your soul. I would be lying if I didn’t admit I’d signed up in a vain attempt to feel needed and aiming to find my life’s meaning. The trip made me realize I needed. Perhaps, her fingers even briefly trailed her tender parts, but she kept those fingers collared and chained. To deny herself pleasure, she felt, made her one with that universe that she tried harder and harder to blink, as the years rolled over. It simply would not go away… and so, she thought, ‘I will just be a mirror.’ She batted at the soapy surface of the lacustrine body, contained within the smooth, porcelain tub she had earlier crawled into. It was a gesture of frustration. To deny. More

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