I am losing it the times I touch my hands to see how I am feeling. I am lost somewhere elsewhere in old age. I am colder than I ever been the lost lasting harm from years of suffering of suffocating and now it is in my hands.

Where did my lies get me I must have told them. I told so many lines that they have come to my hands. I am not older I am still youthful I am in my sixties come on it is not that old.

I go through the door come back again and rest on my hands. The pain is intense in my hands I must get up there is so much to do. I must get up there is nothing else on my mind. I did not rest the whole night not to be in this way. I must feel refreshed to add to the day. Make others happy. I am no longer able to mix and that matters to me. To him, he is resting too in the house unable to bear my company for more than an hour or so.

It is his conscience because he married her instead of me. He is now sad and worn out he is hopeful that I would not bear a grudge.

But I do have this grudge I am mad with the sadness of years of waiting for him to leave her. Destroyed everything destroyed my hands in waste.

I crawl inside just thinking of the lean years as they wasted my time and my life in emptiness. I did not give up I thought if I had somehow got creative that would fill me up. It did but she tried to ridicule me and made me feel my efforts were a bore.

How boredom sets in inside me. I am unhappy because the thoughts and feelings are so intense. It has got through to my hands. He went away in the eighties and today is the 2023 I am through with waiting as if the sadness was the saddest part.

He got back when I was narrowly killed and came to look after me.

Life was stranger.

I am a strange fiction no one likes me as if hers was the only life worthy of attention. I am no use as a beauty. She is. Her bosom is sure to fire an engine.

My own is good too but I do not wear their bras push-up bras. She does and she sure looks good for her age.

I do not mean to be a cat but what is the matter with me?

“I am left standing with hands empty.”

“If I don’t sell something I will be without a home.”

“She said nothing she wants me to be without a home?”

She said I took her husband. Well, the thing is I do not want to go on but she did have another man’s baby and they frolicked on until all hours with the friends' women she catcalled because she loves women in bed with her.

I am straitlaced compared to her.

I do not do women in bed I talk them to death instead. Look honey if you want to sleep with me that is not going to happen. I am what I am a nice woman. But she said she is a nice woman too because everyone in the street talks to her and she is invited to all the weddings. That is no concern of mine because you slept with the woman and probably the husband you are their own.

Then she shows her cleavage. I stare and then try not to look she does have a nice bosom and Freud did speak bathos that may happen if we stare too long. As my mother said do not look into the sun too long and she was right.

I jumpily get out of that mindset and move on to the troubles I am having with my hands. She is a doctor too. So she will not see me. What is this aristocrat? She is a brilliant woman she is every woman. She is a Rock Hudson in womanhood. She will not accept no for an answer.

She thinks the letter no is not right she is what she is.

How he was foolish enough to marry with that? But she is sadly a good grand actress believable. She used to be his mate and then he married her and found out what an Alpha fool he had become.

“I am sorry?” She snarls.

I did not mean to make his life a misery but looking at me has made him see how his behaviour had affected me. His whole life he had led a hippy life. He did what he did and wanted for nothing but love and the home comforts. He was a superior man without much morals. He was also bad for me.

The treatment worked the good working order I am now the woman who is in charge and I do a good deal of things to make this house work.

The whole point is to do stuff in the wild but not marry a rotten woman. I do not mean she is rotten with syphilis or anything like that but she is a rotten wife. A rotten mum. She is nothing of the sort her daughter who is constantly being raped would answer.

Their daughter the Serpent my dad has got her and she has given birth to my half-brother. So we are now connected. We have the best family relations.

The whole stormy life is now in my hands I move them gingerly and realise that the hands are not the only issue my life is too late.

I have seen so many stories end unhappily that mine has to end not violently it must be happy. I need a happy ending where does he come in? Well, he was the whole story he is my only one and there is nothing the matter with that is there?