I touched his hand, and brushing away unexpected tears, I tucked into his coffin a letter I had written him years before, just before I ran away from ...ome. Around it I had wrapped another letter written only the night before, my letter of letting go. ‘I’m forgiving you, Dad. I have to go on with my life now.’ There was nothing else to say. It was harder than I had ever imagined it would be to let go of that letter, to face the fear that without anger to hold me together, I wouldn’t know how to. That one...” Camille could barely talk about her cunt hole through her clenched teeth.“Oh wait, I do feel one more in there but it’s across the membrane or whatever. I can probably push it from here.”“Let me help.” That was Paul. His arms were even thicker than Ryan’s, and he took it upon himself to go elbow-deep in both holes.It wasn’t pleasant for Camille, but with two hands manipulating intestinal cans from the womb and one set of fingernails ready to catch the rims once a soda reached the. More

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