He began his day as he normally did, sitting at the small kitchen table, his newspaper open while he buttered his toast. His shirt was open and his pa...ts were loose. Next to his newspaper was a small notebook and pen and he would occasionally make a note about an article he was reading. His small kitchen was cramped, but he did not seem to mind; it suited his meager needs. Today however, he could not keep his thoughts on his reading. They kept drifting to the party the night before. He had been. . and that’s Chad with Miss Taylor,” Ashley said into the phone. She giggled. “Yes, you have a nice cock. I compared it to a cucumber. And an éclair. You can ask Miss Taylor.” Chad was swiveling his head. “Hi, Chad,” Ashley said. “No way!” she continued, talking to the phone. “She did not.” Long pause. “Bullshit. No, I won’t.” Long pause. The guy with the stiff éclair had stopped stroking and was talking animatedly into the phone. Ashley said, “You are so full of shit . . . OK, deal.” “Miss. More

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