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Her apartment was tiny. The living room window faced the backside of a warehouse. The tiny window of her bedroom was the only source of light. When the evening sun slipped through the cracks of the venetian blinds, she saw dust particles swimming in the air and lighting on the furniture. Whenever she made a move to get out of bed to clean, dust, or cook, Robert X reached up and pulled her down next to him. He was enchanted by the “charms” from Sister Gloria’s street days. She knew what spots on his manhood that made him tremble and moan like a sinner at the altar. Her bed was his temple and he worshipped there every evening while his wife worked.
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