The man in the cell was my Daddy. Every bad thought I'd had about him suddenly sprouted guilty flames and burned into ashes. He was a sick man, and it...was so obvious that even a 10 year old could see his discomfort. His hair was scraggly and unwashed. His face was a bright, bright red, and his eyes looked ... wrong. They looked almost oily, and his pupils were a little too dilated. He coughed hard a few times, into a cloth in his hand, and tried to focus his eyesight on us."Tommy?" Daddy?" I. So I went to fetch some towels, and I told Alan to follow me up the stairs to our en suite bathroom. We took a cold shower together. It was invigorating, but we were both too spent to do any more than just kiss and run fingers up and down each other.Our clothes were still downstairs, so off we went again, and we dressed. Gary had said he would not be home until the early hours, and it was not even two-thirty yet. We were both peckish, though, and I didn’t really want to cook because it was so. More

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