Hush it is trying

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Chapter 9

Then I leapt onto parentage and the percentage of being a right parent for the right child.

In every parent’s eye there is a twinkle when they watch their own and there was one in the stormy relationship which dad had with me. His twinkle little star and I was not even wanted, no he did not wonder where and what he did he was a wretched man he always in some party with his reality which was relationships and haggling over whom would look after me. There it was a difficult child an impossible child in there with the auntie so that I could become aware of what I had been and lost.

“Dickens is dead there is no such thing.”

In this age when we live and die in the middle of the ground because we all are mean as hell. Look where are the rich they are robbing me of my ideologies. Ideas one does not pay for look we are wed to democracy and that makes us the best nation in the whole world.

We are all private and privileged and that is what we do well. We are the right stuff we are the thinkers we are the doers. When I die what will become of me?

I was sat on my single bed in the room which had dinner table the television and the other two beds which were the only real furniture except for the television. Mother had the best bed which was soft and cushy and did not even have her backache. Our beds made ours ache. There is nothing to be done I think we are alone with this.

“That is your father for you so modern.” said mother.

“When I say a word, it means something I mean what I say.” said dad.

We all mean what we say but what do we say I wonder?

“We do not say a word to this it is all that they say that they all idolise us the children that they love us and them and we are well loved and well able to do what we care to do and be what we want and to fulfil our potential if we have any. We idolise them we do indeed. Now go and wash the dishes.

The way forward is to drive your kids mad then help yourself. That matters most in the whole world to drive madness in. Let it out said my shrink and she shrilled that in a manner drowning me in sorrows and I am letting it out.

“Speak out?”

“I have been broken down.”

A broken woman a wife not a moment to spare the little room is buzzing with me inside and there is not much time or light left and there is not much of me there. Inside this room claustrophobic and closed down for busiest seasons over.

“Her seasons done for?”

“Yes, we will not fetch her a good price but I have other daughters.”

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