Thursday, February 07, 2013


By Colleen Foley

I would normally have cleansed the boy’s perceived disgrace using sex. It masks the discomfort of my feeding. This one’s mind would snap if I tried that.

Brow quirked, I studied him. I could trundle out the soothing massage I sometimes used for children and elders, but he wasn’t going to tolerate comforting. That smacked too much of “not my fault”.

He could never punish himself enough…so I did it for him. I bound him to a wall and gave Hunger free reign, lancing guilt with bared teeth.

He screamed. But he survived, and by doing so, remembered his strength.


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