"I'm growing weary, I think." Ah." Mozart nodded, sitting in his customary chair, near the fire as he watched her. "You've been working hard, Eva. Too...hard perhaps?" Perhaps," she said, setting the glasses together on the small table near Mozart's chair. Eva sat down in another chair beside him, waiting until the old man had chosen a glass before picking up the other and sipping it."I knew your mother," Mozart said after tasting his own drink. "Did you know that?" No." I remember when she was. Almost if they were alien lifeforms struggling to get out of the confinement of a too small cage. "These are Not the only place that itches, mom!" I looked down lower."Well, do the best you can, just remember; once you start having that itch scratched, you won't ever want to stop. I'd rather you didn't ... but I had your dad ... come to think it ... I'm gonna wear his ass out tonight," she cackled."God, mom, you're no help at all."We went back through the drug store, the car was parked back in. More

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