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A RITE OF PASSAGE

SEMI-IMPENETRABLE... AN UN-GATED FENCE WITH MISSING PICKETS... AND WITH JACK AND HIS LITTLE HALF-SISTER MEG’S EYES ABOUT TO POP... QUERULOUS FROM A DEARTH OF THE HOLY GHOST... ABSENT FROM THE PRESENCE OF THE FATHER AND THE SON... AIRBORNE SPHERES SWOLLEN FROM PRIMORDIAL GASSES... BUBBLES FROM THIS THRICE-FAILED CELEBRATION...

WITH THEIR HALF-SISTER NAUGHTY BETTY CONTINUING WITHOUT REDEMPTION, YET PUERILE WITH GLEE... OBFUSCATING... ARMORING AGAINST THE PAIN OF BECOMING SOMETHING SHE WAS NOT IN ORDER TO FIT IN, YET NOT EVEN KNOWING...

IT HAD BECOME A PREDICTABLY REPETITIVE DISRUPTION OF HER MATURATIONAL CYCLE...

IT WAS ALL VERY COMPLEX. ONE WOULD HAVE HAD TO AT LEAST HALF BEEN THERE...