#37876 - “Don’t fight them Carla,” she said quietly, “I did and they broke up my arms and legs and busted my ribs,” she paused a moment, “I’m dying girl, I suggested they get you, you’re a fit strong healthy girl, ripe for sexing. Then the healing started inside of me and it was all right, then it was more than all right, jeez, it was better than a strawberry ice cream soda, Joe-Bob and Joe and Horse, and Michael-Angelo and Billy-Bob, one after one other, till I was swimming in glue, see Ma used to scoop it out and put it in bottles and sell it for gumming down envelopes and such like when she worked in the whore house so she called it glue at least so Pa said when I asked why his pants was all sticky when I washed them one time.
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