"I watched her walk away, pony tail swishing. This time her hips weren't swinging the way they had that other time, and her steps were slow, like she ...as thinking hard. She looked nice that way, too.I turned toward home. As I walked up the driveway, I noticed the grass needed mowing. After putting my bike away in the garage I went in the house and dumped my books at the foot of the stairs, getting a quick snack before tackling the lawn. Sis was still out.Up in my room, I thought about what Beth. Only her wounds didn't come from some fucking big mushroom cloud.Olive lifted herself up onto her knees and felt the start of a bruise growing across her cheek. Her face had only just lost the blue traces of its last encounter with a fist where Mick had punched her during an argument over a crack pipe. He'd fucked her well and proper and still kept the fucking pipe. Bastard! He wouldn't be getting a Christmas card from her. Not that Olive ever gave anyone Christmas cards anyway.There wasn't. More

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