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sample wetland animals "wetlandanimals" story:
It was nice. We sat up and watched scary movies from the
Detroit stations and we exchanged notes and secrets about
mysterious doings with boys and --
[No. I didn't find her appealing in that way and she didn't
care for women that way.]
They lived in this development off State Route 51 and their
neighbor was this guy named Roger something-or-other.
[Did you know that "roger" is now another word for "fuck"? No
kidding. In upper-class circles now they talk about men rogering
women. Everyone knows what it means, so why don't they just say --
Oh, never mind.]
Anyhow. Roger's wife had just left him, oh, not six months
before and the guy was a wreck. Charlene told me he was all messed
up -- couldn't sleep or eat or anything.
Roger was about twenty-seven and about six foot tall and had
this great body that I saw sometimes when he was working in his
yard. And he was nice looking. Not a fox, like my phantom step-
brother; just nice. But there was something about him that had me
all achy and twisty-stomachy and wet and itchy inside just to look
at him. Charlene told me his lights were on all night and he always
looked really tired and sometimes you had to call his name two or
three times before he noticed you. It was like he was still in
shock from his wife leaving him. Charlene didn't know why she'd
left, but said she was a real slut -- worse: a cheat.
I knew he was a long haul trucker and when he was working,
he'd be away a week at a time. I knew he was quite an amateur
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