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"Gimme. Thanks.", she said as I put the bottle in her hand, catching a glimpse of smiling lips and pubescent breast as she closed the curtain once more."Can you stay and watch... to make sure nobody shows up for a little peep show?" You mean like the one you gave me just now?" (with sarcasm) "Whoops" And what did that mean?" "It's just your little reward for giving me some shampoo. I hope you liked it." "Yeah. It was great!" I said, blushing and suddenly very conscious of myself. I turned my back, shaking my head and wondKimg why, if I had spent nineteen years waiting for something like this, I was so embarrassed by it now.But Amanda continued, "So how was break? Did Santa leave you the woman you needed so badly?"I was about to respond that Santa hadn't left me anything for over 10 years when I felt two warm, wet hands grab my shoulders."I guess not." I felt her pull me into the shower. I suppose that, if I were a little more uninhibited, I probably would've gone willingly about five. The river had soothed them and nursed them and fed them and bathed them and cooled them, had even killed a few of them. So now she was alone, just the river and she. That was how it had always been. She and The River. ‘SSShh,’ the river whispered, muttering and mumbling its ceaseless speech, winding and wandering and wending its way through numberless lands and loves and lives, but speaking directly only to her. Always, she had been the only one among them to hear the river’s voice. At the age of six, she had gone running to tell of the river’s voice, excited by her discovery, but her ma had laughed and said, ‘Yes, dear, we have all heard it, doesn’t the river make lovely sounds?’ She insisted that it spoke, insisted so loudly and so often they had begun to treat her as ‘odd’. Eventually she had learned to ‘get along’, keeping her mouth shut and the river’s secrets deep within her. She sat on her tottering old gray front porch, slowly, evenly rocking in time to some unheard rhythm,.
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