A ten-year-old boy is a potential bowling champion. Someone lures him away from the kids' class he practices in, over to the adult lanes. These bowlers mock him. They know a kid can't be good.

He bowls, hits an effortless strike. They look at each other. One of them, in a miniskirt and low-cut top, steps up onto his lane, sits, spreading her legs to block it.

Boy says timidly "I can't see..."

She slowly, slowly hikes up her tiny skirt, up till he can see her red panties, and smiles. "NOW you can see!"

He gulps.

She drawls... "Aren't ya gonna try the CROTCH shot?"

She sprawls lies on her side so her breasts nearly pop out and bares her thighs up to her cunt. Blocking the lane even better.

He's helpless. Blushing red, ears on fire. Oh, he's used to jealous kids humiliating him; endure it, or try to leave, or find a responsible grownup.

But what do you do when grownups humiliate you? Whole crowds? Sexually, too.

NOTES IN THE MORNING

While this particular scene never happened to me, similar incidents did. I was a child prodigy--not precocious at bowling but in math and languages. Adults and teens resenting or just baffled by a child prodigy can get quite bizarre. Shunned, mocked, bashed, and spat on. That leaves scars.

But why am I dreaming of it now? Because I'm saving up to quit my dayjob, leave suburbia, and move to San Francisco. It's lonely being a weirdo artist in suburbia, but in some ways safe, in shallow water, the baby pool.

The City isn't the baby pool.

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