The written word was in his bones. The office area of the study was a little more subdued. A Persian carpet lay on the floor. Two lamps sat on a larg... oak desk, providing sufficient lighting for the entire room. On the desk sat a small pile of corrected homework and test papers. Opposite the papers stood a tall vase filled with sharpened pencils. She had given him that vase full of blue roses on their first wedding anniversary. She was glad he still used it, even if it was just for storing. Then she turned and looked behind her at the lines and puddles of jism on the sheet. “Oh my god, Teddy. I’m covered. I better get these sheets washed and dried before your father gets home.”VII“Hi Dad!” I said as I walked into the kitchen the next morning. Dad was sitting at the kitchen table, apparently reading multiple newspapers at once. His luggage was resting in the hallway. He must have taken the cross-Atlantic red eye.“Hey Teddy,” he said, barely glancing up from his papers. “Been. More

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