I made my way back around to the front of the barn. The daylight sun is shining through the amber glow of a morning mezcal.
"Chicallinos..." I say, lifting the glass to my lips. "Remember those times when in my mind I would offer your throat as service to my girth."
"All that is not butter does not turn to gold, ponyboy." she says.
"Lord, who's that girl?" I ask, pointing at a bare butt fox slanking in the corner.
"Don't your recognize her?" asks Mama Melathia. "It's that girl you raped relentlessly in your dreams."
"One and the same."
"But all the lace... Where has the time gone?"
"You truly are an old man now."