.. "Doesn't matter, I'll clean it tomorrow" I thought and drove to the first coffee-shop I saw.The coffee-shop was rather empty except of a company of...three, a man on his fourties and two women, one midle-aged on the plump side, the other thirty-something with a pair of big tits. By the language they spoke I understood they were Italians. I had a beer, thinking if it was real what I just lived or am I in a kind of dream, or again I've gone mad and have illusions. If it is a blusted dream, sure. Nothing was too good for princess Tabitha, and she knew it. She was two years older than me, and with her greater vocabulary, and the support of her parents, she contributed to my ongoing misery by continually teasing me and taunting me about my parents. ?Oh poor little Johnny! How sad you must be. Your mother was a whore, and your father a murdering drug addict. Do you think you’ll turn out to me a murderer or a drug addict too? I wonder!?None of the kids around would have anything to do. More

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