"Have you even tried to get to know us? You don't even know what we're into, so how do you know you wouldn't like it?" "I mean, girls like you..." "Gi...ls like me?" Mel repeated angrily, standing up. "You know, I've been judged my whole life by what girls like me are supposed to be. You know, I could just as easily make assumptions about you by the way you dress, and all your video games and Mangas and things. But I thought I'd try to actually get to know you since we're going to be living. What had looked at first to be a dimple, a handhold, a porthole, a hatchway, grew and grew as the deceptive distance expanded it into a enormous hanger door, open to the sharp airless view of vacuum, the tiny sleds within growing in the changing perspective into cargo haulers of huge proportion. Once the size of the personnel hatch on the cargo vessel was noted, and the drifting speck of human awareness achieved some comprehension of perspective, the vast testimonial to human achievement grew. ” “What?” I want you to put your clothes on exactly the way you had them when Tom fucked you and fingered your ass in his office, and I want you to tell me precisely what he did so I can do it to you while you are describing it.” I thought to myself, ‘Why not? Why not let David experience exactly what Tom did to me this afternoon?’ “Okay, I’ll put my skirt on and take off my panties. You need to go to the kitchen and get a small container of vanilla yogurt.” David looked understandably puzzled.. I plugged in the other two and still nothing. I looked at the original notes. Dag had written the first two on a notepad in the hospital in his neat, precise lettering. The last one I photographed off Bradley’s dead body with my cell phone. I examined all three to see if there were any other letters that I could substitute for the numbers or sounds in the words. I came up blank. I didn’t know what Simon’s and Angel’s tattoos looked like, but if they were like Bradley’s, there must have been.