‘Your gift of self to me is a wondrous thing, and I find your breasts very inviting to look at… and touch… and hold in my hands…’ My words, ...though spoken softly, arrested for her all other thought. At first she could not think what to do, but then in a gesture most feminine and dainty, laid her brush aside and covered the pretty little pink peaks of her breasts with just her fingertips, as if, somehow, such would be adequate shielding from my intense perusal. I have thought about that scene. He marched with a broom and he marched when he took out the trash. Like an automaton, Teacher marched through every grubby, disgusting, chemically dangerous or simply dangerous taskHe felt like a robot. Oscar would yell and rail, but Brendan wouldn't flinch, only blink his eyes once or twice. Marisol would insist on explanations and answers; Brendan would reply with a quiet voice.On the bus, Brendan caught sight of the young woman twice more that week and he turned away each time.On Friday. He said in a very afraid and exited voice, “sorry aunty”. I again asked the same question but with my breasts fully noticeable to him and he answered,“Your…”.“My what?”“Nothing”“Weren’t you eating my vagina’s juice”“No…I mean yes”“Oh you little nasty boy, I’ll see you after my bath”I then went off him and took those same panty and bra and went to bath and before that I told him that he shouldn’t care to touch those things again and to stay right there.I took my bath off so rapidly without. Miranda was 26 years old and no boyfriend or partner to this day ever really hit it off with her, mostly because of her mousey timid image she gave off. It was a busy day at the library today. people milling about in and out checking in or taking books out. Patricia, the head librarian, looked at Miranda busying herself in her work as usual and as always started asking Miranda awkward questions."Miranda Dear, why is it you never seem to have a steady relationship?" Patricia was in her mid.