‘Where’s my Jiggy? I just can’t wait to talk with him, and see him read something!’‘Dad,’ the young lad says, ‘I have some grim news. Ye...sterday morning, just before we left to drive home, Jiggy was in the living room, kicked back in the recliner, reading the Cape Breton Post. Then he suddenly turned to me and asked, ‘So, is your daddy still messing around with that little redhead working in the bakery at the grocery store?’’ The father groans and whispers, ‘I hope you shot that son of a bitch. The 3 remaining blacks whos names I had already forgotten were jabbering away in some African American speech that I could not really follow but from their gestures it was obvious they were deciding the batting order and taking the piss out of the newly to become cuckold. About 20 minutes later Dean returned looking flushed and smelling of sex, to his credit he looked sheepish and did not accept the offer of high fives from the black boys, he turned to me and asked if I were ok, I replied with. I had the drug strattera though we tried to use it as little as possible. I hoped to build up to a point that we would not need the drug to keep the minds of all those around us out of our heads. We still avoided large concentrations of people when we could. In some cases we felt pain as if too many people were clamouring to get into our heads at one time.We stopped every few hours to stretch and allow the dogs to water the daisies. They could hold it a long time and told us when they needed to. The one they think about when they touch themselves at night, the one whose name they call out as they fuck themselves with silicone cocks.That coach.What no one else knows is that he’s sexting me while I’m in class, discussing the theme of revenge in Macbeth. The class giggles as my cell phone chimes. I hold up a finger to silence them as I read my message, and immediately feel a rush of heat flood my body.Him: Hey gorgeous. I have to know what panties you’re wearing.Me: Purple lace.