"Because your car is blocking me in! Now I'm late and it's all your fault!" Youre right, Son. I guess I screwed up. I'm sorry. And after you were nice...enough to let me stay under your roof." That's when it hit me. Dad did screw up while staying "under my roof". That was grounds for punishment. This was exactly the kind of thing I used to get spanked for. And was I just imagining things or was that a smile on Dad's face? NO, I had to be imagining that.I wasn't so worried about being late anymore. A cigarette. I've never smoked, but who cared. I put on the jeans, a loose shirt, a coat, the only flat shoes I had, and I sneaked out of the room. At the hotel lobby I ordered a pack of the perfumed fags and a matchbox I didn't even know how to use, but I knew I liked the odor. After a few failed attempts I finally succeed to light one and accept the deadly smoke to keep bothering my used throat. I coughed with fear I'd throw all the sperm up on that cherry wood table. My whole body ached, but. More

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