"That took me back," Mom laughed. She took my hand back in hers. "I always did like spoon-feeding you. Frankly, it was such a. such an unusual pleasur...." Letting go of my hand, she returned to her food. "Nothing like the breast, of course, but a sharing of sensual pleasure nonetheless."I looked down at my plate. Food was the furthest from my thoughts. Mom's voice penetrated this dangerous recess. "I think we should up the ante, add to your cachet."I heard the soft rustle of legs being crossed,. Some of her work was so moving that she got a scholarship to a major art institute in Europe. I thought this was great since the one thing she had wanted most in the world was to get out of our small and small-minded town, whether escaping by death or travel. Nothing made me more happy than seeing her face as she was boarding the plane. I knew I would miss my friend, but it gave me hope that someday I would escape from my small town trap as well. When she gave me the painting before she left, I. More

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