| | D and I waged war. We bickered, we quarrelled, we made threats. And then at last, abandoning all subterfuge, I told her.
She did not think I was mad. Something in my voice, my manner told her that this was not madness. If it had been madness, perhaps it would have been easier to endure. Her face turned a grisly white. In one fell stroke, her universe was upturned. Her stock of love, her hungry flesh, her empty womb were mocked and belittled. She looked at me as if I might have been a monster with two heads or a fish's tail. The next day she fled - 'left me' is too mild a term - and, rather than co-exist another hour with my indefinite lease of life, returned to her mother, who - poor soul - was ailing, in need of nursing and shortly to die.
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| | Posted 6/4/2008 2:56 AM - 17 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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