I was on the verge of telling her I wanted her, Martha, and Martha Jane, now, always, and I wanted to be older now and successful now and out of Memph...s now. But I couldn't go that far. I kissed her neck. I whispered, "Your neck feels good. And it feels so good with me in your -- inside you. I feel so --"I stopped. I was suddenly overcome with the strangest, most nonsensical, most idiotic fear I'd known in years. I had a sudden, flashing vision of family, nuns, aunts, rules, frowns, gasps of. A maintenance worker, trying to fix a septic tank, had plunged in, and two others rushed to help him, and they too were swallowed into the pit of shit.Reading it provided me a guilty bit of schadenfreude. Despite my current woes of ghosts, insomnia, and filthy air, there was really nothing I could imagine worse than drowning, suffocating in a pool of shit. That being how one leaves the Earth. What a horrific fate.Perhaps a “ghost of shit,” a violent, vengeful janitor’s ghost sucked them in.. More

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