She would cry many tears and vow they were the last. She wouldn't leave that wicked little hill. But for some reason, there was always a new jack that would come past, and they would stay for dinner. They would stay for tea. They were moving like the one before them. And every few months, she would watch another one leave. Somewhere in the midst of this tragedy I preached, Jill lost her sense of humanity. Indecency was traded for deception