She looked at her daughter. "And how did that make you feel?"Kathy didn't know how to say what she felt. "I got mad." Mad?" prompted her mother."Yes. ...I was mad at you for acting slutty, and I was mad at Uncle Bob and then I wanted to shout and scream, but my ... pussy..." even now she was mad enough to say a word she knew would get her in trouble, "yes ... my pussy itched and I had to rub it and then he ejaculated in you and I wanted to scream. I didn't like that feeling, and I know you've. She reached behind her and lifted a bunch flowers from her bucket. She did not speak as she handed them to Svetlana, just moved her hand as if shooing us away.At that moment the sun had started t o shine in again for me, Svetlana was walking by my side and she was talking to me.Finally I mustered enough courage to take her hand and was rewarded at once with a little squeeze. It was a double thank you squeeze. It was a thank you for forgiving her; and a thank you for taking her hand.I don't know. ' 'It'slocked,' Tim said, trying to open the door. 'Isit? The key might be on the key ring with the house keys.' 'Whereare the keys?' 'Downstairs,in the kitchen.' Dianawas still folding when Tim called up the stairs. 'I can't find them, whereare they?' Dianarolled her eyes and sighed. 'On the bench, next to the toaster,' she calledpatiently. 'Where?' 'Nextto the toaster!' Silenceand then Tim called, 'got them.' 'Thankgod,' Diana murmured, closing the closet door. Sheheard Tim rush up. ”“Are you brushing me aside?’ I asked, feeling my heart pounding.‘No,” he answered, taking my hand. “I’m not brushing you off. If anything I want to bring you closer by letting you go.”“Letting me go,” I blurted out. “I don’t get it,” I said, stunned by his words.“Life has more imagination than the mind,” he said, rubbing the back of my hand as he held it with his other hand.“What’s that suppose to mean?” I asked, confused and still feeling I was being rejected.“It means you have to live and.