He pulled my mother in after him. She still wore her pink bathrobe that I’d closed after I enjoyed her body.Dad stared at me with this ... this look...I had never seen on his face. The anger, the drunken rage, I normally witnessed was gone. His face was flushed, not ruddy, from this new emotion. He fell to his knees before me, still holding my busty mother’s hand.She stared at me with hungry eyes. Not the way a mother should look at her son. But the way that I’d mind-controlled her in to seeing. She reaches over and uses the palm of her hand to hit the snooze button but when her hand comes down on it, rather than just hitting the button the entire clock smashes beneath her hand.She doesn’t even notice the clock as she sits up and goes to throw off her sheets but there are none. So she swings her legs over the side of the bed thinking about the dream she had last night. Vaguely she remembers her dream and just real if seemed.It couldn’t have been real, could it?She shakes the thoughts. More

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