[Eyes closed. Huge gulp] Someone touched me. She said—she said she was a member of a book club. And a poetry society. She put her arms around me. They were big arms. Huge.

Were you scared?

I was terrified.

Can you describe it?

Describe what ? Do you want to hear about the act ? Oh, you filthy animal. You dirty, dirty man. You want to hear about it? I’ll tell you about it. I’ll tell you all you want to hear. If it’ll keep one person from going through what I went through. She was fat, okay? She was big, and fat, and heavy, and she sweated, all right? [Rising from chair, face heated, turning red, carotid artery protuberant, teeth gritted] She couldn’t have sat down in two chairs, okay? She didn’t have any teeth. She was covered with tattoos and she was hairy, and she had bad breath. Now. You want to hear some more?

Bailiff?

No! She got on top of me! They’d told her I was famous! She was mashing me! I was trying to get out from under her but she was too big! It was horrible, do you hear me? Horrible! I can’t forget about it! I wake up in the night screaming from it, screaming from it, screaming huh huh huh … [Complete breakdown, hands over face, gradual grading off to racking sobs loud in hushed awe of courtroom]

All right, Mr. Lawrence. [Going back to table for manuscript pages, waving them in the air] The state has one more piece of evidence to present in this parole hearing. [Approaching witness stand, thrusting papers rudely forward] Read this. Out loud.

[Looking up, face still contorted, eyes wet, nose snuffling] What?

[Shaking pages belligerently] You wrote it. I should think you’d be proud to get a chance to read it in public. I want this court to hear the real reason your parole should be denied. Go on, read it.

[Taking papers slowly, recognizing them] Oh. God, no. [Head shaking, papers trembling slightly in fingers] You can’t mean … I don’t want to read this. Please. It isn’t fair to make me read this. If you have one shred of decency …

Read it.

This … this is just a rough draft.

I thought you’d revised it, Mr. Lawrence.

I was drunk when I wrote this.

Wasn’t beer call yet, Mr. Lawrence. Remember? Read it.