Maggie Cassidy
“Vapor in the windows. The wild windows of other houses and Saturday night parties shining the spilling molten hot gold of real life. I’m sweating, the big athletic sweater is killing me, making me hot, wetfaced, sad at my own party. In the kitchen the older folks are already half in the bag, rounds of nips, drinking songs; in the rumpus the youngsters start a post office game with gleeful couples running into the cold dark blizzard windowed unheated parlor to neck. Maggie is the star. Bloodwort...h, Moran, Quinn, Truman, Lousy even, everybody’s rushing her in and out of the parlor for passionate kisses—my face burns with jealousy. I rush her in when the spin-bottle points at us— “You’re kissin Bloodworth like mad tonight.”
“Aint we sposed to, dope? That’s the rules.”
“Yeah but he enjoys it—you enjoy it—”
“So?”
“So—I feel—” I grab her, shivering; she fights out.MoreLess
“Aint we sposed to, dope? That’s the rules.”
“Yeah but he enjoys it—you enjoy it—”
“So?”
“So—I feel—” I grab her, shivering; she fights out.MoreLess
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