Incest
I watched Toby sleep. My sixteen-year-old son slept naked these days and was only half-covered by a sheet and the bedspread, his bare back and one leg exposed. He lay on his tummy, his head on the pillow, his mouth open a quarter inch as he breathed. It reminded me of when I was his age, asleep in my room, dreaming sixteen-year-old girl dreams.That’s now twenty-one years ago. I remembered it like this:“Daddy?” I mumbled. My head was foggy with sleep. He had just, barely, woken me up.“Hey, baby...
Incest