‘That’s what my mom always says.’ ‘Your mother,’ he chuckled. Her mother, a woman of a slightly more appropriate age for his interests. ‘... can’t count the number of times she’s told me to cut my hair,’ she said, rolling her eyes slightly. ‘Why would you ever cut your hair?’ he asked, and without thinking he ran his fingers through the curls cascading down her back. Her heart lurched in her chest as the tips of his fingers brushed against the skin between her shoulder blades. ‘I…’ she. Maribell’s heart stopped. She looked over at Feldman, her mouth gaping and froze. Terror filled her body, mind and spirit as her thoughts raced and her heart pounded. She clasped her hands over her mouth as she heard herself whisper aloud, ‘Please, don’t wake up.’ She reluctantly turned to survey the chunky pool of her own excrement that occupied the space between them, it seemed to slop and slosh against their bodies as if their backs were the banks of a river. The vile liquid was still. More

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