Not since I saw them in Faye's office. Thepetals built up and flowed all over my body, and they never seemed tostop coming. Soon, only my face was above water, if that was what youwant to call it, and quickly that surface began to vanish as well. Itwas strange, as the watery substance filled up past my face. I couldn'tbreathe under it...I had no urge to breathe, but my body wasn'tstraining for air either. My eyes closed from instinct, but I felt thesubstance flow into my nasal cavity and my sinus pockets, and down mythroat, filling me as it was still filling the tub. At least I assumedit was still filling it. I couldn't tell anymore. I felt tired,suddenly, and didn't fight my body's urge to sleep.I awoke to find myself in a large bed, covered in black satins andsilks, and wearing a long black peignoir made of chiffon. Wait. "How do I know what a peignoir is, and what chiffon is? I mean, it IScommon knowledge, but...ugh. I didn't used to know. Where did I learnthis?"I slid my legs out. Despite her continued and best efforts, the boy, while never a behavior problem, was also never the close, loving child for which she had hoped either. He shared activities with her; going places and doing things, but he never truly shared himself with her. It was always Allan, whose attitude toward the boy varied between tolerant and resentful, that he sought. When he was hurt, had a question or was excited about one of his Little League ball games which Allan hadn't even attended, it was the father who he sought out, not the devoted mother whose heart grew sadder and sadder as she felt him growing away from her.She turned again, this time onto the street where she and Kyle now lived. The small rental frame house was even more modest than that which they had shared with Allan. Neither of them had adjusted well, she thought, to Allan's leaving. She had grown despondent, despite the absence of the beatings, for as she tried to shift her entire affection to her son, Kyle steadily.
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