I wash my hands, wonder how an awful day could turn even worse. It seems like at some point you'd just run out of awful.

And why? Because they are suffocating within the lines that define their town and their times. And sometimes lines are made to be crossed.

Bosoms are for bedrooms and breastfeeding.

Who knew paper and ink could be so vicious

...My sister Doreena who never lifted a royal finger growing up because she had the heart defect that we later found out was a fly on the X-ray machine.

I'm tired of the rules," I say.

...and that's when I get to wondering, what would happen if I told her she something good, ever day?