— At home, Michael was looking for something to break. He needed to get his anger out of his system. A better idea came to him, and he changed into...some jeans, a shirt and his leather jacket. He went out to his garage in search of his pride and joy. The Kawasaki purred to life and he straddled it in a well practiced move. The bike rode smoothly out onto the road. He headed for the hills. The winding roads proved more interesting. Michael didn’t care if he was speeding. Fuck it. God, how. She sat next to him. “You’ve finally figured it out, master.”He snapped back to full consciousness. “Eudora. You ... why do you look like...” Upon smelling her perfume, his mind flashed back to a defining moment from his childhood: He was sitting on his mother’s bed, looking at an old photograph of her. “You’re so pretty, Mommy,” he praised her.He returned to the present. “ ... like my mother?” He looked Eudora up and down, and then recoiled from her. “I fucked you, and you look like my. More

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