“What do I eat it with?” he asked, politely.“Fuck!” she exclaimed. Her face fell. “I didn’t bring anything!”Jake held up his index finge..., then pulled a couple of forks out of his backpack.Béla laughed. “You knew I’d forget!” she accused him.They ate quickly. Jake washed his very dry bologna and cheese sandwich down with water from Béla’s backpack because she also forgot packets of ketchup and mustard.Now, she had the hiccups.“Too much dry food too fast, babe,” admonished Jake. “Now it’s all. This is your own daughter! my head screamed. But visions of her youthful beauty, tainted by alcoholic influences, and her body nearly melted to mine, caused an infernal mental and physical battle to rage within me. This is your daughter, flesh of your flesh, product of your loins. And the more I thought of fresh, the harder I grew.My stroking of her face traveled to her shoulders and side. The gentle caresses turned to a more ardorous insistence. It was as if I were warming her from the chill. More

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