I mostly talk to him through e-mail anyway. He and mom live eight hundred miles away. I like to think of him as a randy guy in his late twenties. Like...most the guys I like, I fantasize about him. But I don't talk about it much to my boyfriend. Nor to mom. Anyway, I fantasize about most things, not just guys. That's probably, no, that IS why I like to write. Sort of crystalizes my ideas. I wanted to call the hero in this story "Otis" after stepdad's pseudoname. I don't know why he won't even use. How can I get more money? A thought came to her. ?Why not suck a guy'spenis after he peed? It's not like giving him a blowjob; just like cleaninghis dick.? She reasoned. In broken French she asked five euros from men beforethey entered the toilet. Some men refused, other men reluctantly paid her.At first, they seem to be upset at the price to use the toilets. But afterwards,they seemed glad to have done it. She didn't taste the pee anymore or the smellafter while. She got used to it. Some. “You might try the Convenience store about a mile out of town. They let people set up a camper there for five dollars a day,” the older woman said. After he was gone she thought about him. She wondered if he was going to be trouble. He didn’t quite look like the crazy vets, who came around now and then, but then again he did a little. He was tall and not quite thin, so she assumed he hadn’t been on the road long. Nothing like life on the road to skinny down a man or woman. She knew from her. Yes, now that he thought about it, there had definately been a mound. All this daydreaming had brought it back.He had only begun to ponder what the metal item was that perhaps caused the mound when he remembered to check the fax machine. There it was, waiting for him at three-thirty on the dot. He took the fax to his desk and began to read. It seemed the Central Massachusetts State School wasn't your run-of-the-mill junior high. It was a reformatory. And a mistake had obviously been made.