Someone always knocking on the door

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Chapter 11

She stays and lives six years a invalid. Her rage has made her that way an invalid her raging self like incredulous, like incredibly, she has got worse of it. She is so unwell as if her powers are weakening as if her soul has been touched by demons. She is not anymore happy. Her happy smiles and little presents are no more.

She loved to leave little tokens in the books dried flowers to remind everyone that dusty books were a health hazard,

She used to do small flower arrangements and place it on the arms and the forehead of all she had contact with. She made them arrangements so that they had the different flowers to see too. The smells of the flowers were so good the fragrance went to the soul.

“No he is not?”

“Who are we to know what really happened in the past none of them are speaking about it.”

“Well she paid for the shop how did she do that?”

“That shop did not get bought for nothing.”

“If he her dad?”

“Come is it that obvious?”

“The girl becomes pregnant again and this time she is walking by some unlucky chance she sees something or someone and she said I thought she had not been here. I thought she had never been here. She can’t be here because if she had been there and now here it does not add up if someone has played the folly the joke the jest to spite me and my own low connections what does it mean?

“What why what does it mean?”

“What did you all do?”

“What why what did you all make me live believe in?”

“Look what have you done to me?”

“I loathe the sight of all of you.”

“For this you made me unmade me.”

“The mask on your faces have fallen I can see you all as you are.”

“This is not right you must calm down.”

“How can you say that they have stolen my life?”

“They have taken away from me and given me nothing!”

“They have stolen my life and given me death with a white sheet, the harmony over.”

“My poor child you will catch your death of cold come in and I will make you a soup to drink in because anger is hunger making.”

“Yes that is a good idea is the soup ready?”

“I will go and see but first you must come and lie down.”

“Yes but still I can speak?”

“Yes you may say as much as you like.”

I thought she had been somewhere else. It is her it is her it is her. Oh God my waters broke.

Her teeth were chattering she is near her time.

“Say graces my child.”

“What for mother is there such a thing?”

“Say grace because you are dying your mum said that and that means you will go to heaven.”

“Is that true?”

“That is what it says when a pregnant woman dies she goes straight to heaven with no questions asked.”

“Oh how wonderful.”

“Mummy I am dying.”

“Good heaven is the place for you.” he said to me cruelly as he left fled from me.

“Mummy how can you say them last lost words?”

“I am a sinner my girl you are a victim this world works for sinners not for woman who feel. It is best you die because the trade is going down.”

The smile is still there on her features.

Wanton women whores who live by the flesh mummy my flesh has disappointed myself included mummy I feel easy now to know that the only thing you have is your flesh. To make it the merriest death scenes is to think you have a rival who will eat you out of house and home. I left you something you deserve. My mummy now will be served on a platter so that she can add to the world. Add mummy add.

Just add not subtract abstractive thinking waste of time. My mummy is fondly imagining that she has won scored scripted this legacy. The ill wind that walks- Mum the killing wind- The wind that will be the end. I am the ma of this open handed thing.

“The would be killed wretched girl whose life has been done for. I am this waif no dad no ma and then this husband whom without my thinking I had been making fun of me.”

Now no more to bed with me of throes and thistles to thank no one but God is my shepherd as he holds out his arms to me to go into heaven with his other flock.

It was a different ending from what one expected, dead and she so young not yet seventeen. She should never have been led onto that place.

“It was your dad who took her?”

“My what for is that true?”

“He was the husband.”

“Shut the gate of hell if it is true then this wretchedness will be our doom,!”

“There are Predators about.”

“A girl has died.”

“You next Princess is here ready.”

“Predators die too.”

“You next princess is nowhere to be found she did not care to be mauled?”

“Predators die. I have bought a shotgun if any of you try it I am able to use it.”

“Shoots fired on us.”

“When and where do I come in?”

“You are always thinking about yourself.”

“That is what therapy does to you.”

“Last night when we were going to that whore house, no man is safe even when nature calls.”

“Leave it alone or the consequences will be dire.”

“Married not married what is she?”

“This is none of your business.”

Back at the work place I had to entertain as well as do not touch. I had found my calling to behave and look well on that. This is doing work and all that matters to me a lot.

“Another one of them bread puddings mom?”

“Of course the sweet is not enough in it is it?”

" A full packet of peanuts would be nicer?”

“I would like some crisp with mine.”

“It is time for lunch?”

“I like the peanuts with mine.”

“No we must not put sugar in our Turkish coffee fattening.”

“I am trying to slim. To keep the weight off you know gained a few stones I think I can’t think why?”

“I did not make that sandwich?”

“Well you must have done?”

“How many did the customer want?”

“Ouch.”

“It is a pity to waste it?”

“No do not put it in the bin I want it.”

“Okay.”

“Too much of it lost.”

“What about it?”

“You are gaining weight.”

“Well it is all this sitting around you know I dislike to sit.”

“We can have a television in here?”

“No way because the orders you know you won’t remember.”

“We will do something why won’t we do extras and specials.”

“Now having made the greatest sacrifices in marriage to mummy why he must be eternally in such denial about his selfless acts of devotions?”

“Well it is not much use to me.” he said in a manner of speaking I begin to worry myself over the things one can do to parents. I mean being adopted. I mean no harm he said and hurriedly went away. The failures of himself and myself which is sadness.

“Dad if mummy dies I am going to marry you.”

He is that careful with his money he has all and everything measured and then when he does not think he can make anything more out of the house he puts my would be rapist indoors and makes money out of him.

Therefore earning him a lot of money? The would be rapist the arch enemy Abdul is a very clever guy he is very secure now saying and doing nothing why is that old gay lad doing such a thing and why I am able to stand the little guy? The thing is the Abdul is a better looking man than that pooh and why does he not turn me on and that pooh does? Abdul concerned looks on. The thing is the Abdul does not care to be seen being malicious so they continue on talking and speaking the language of hostility and demeanours of friendships until one fries the other like oven chips.

When the chips are down what happens?

He runs away so fast. He did not want to louse up his food. He and Zeks are still at it like mad but she knows when he is fascinated and he wants everything in the company his own way. Abdul is not a man to cave in.

He got one pooh out of the way he can get another one out too.

Abdul is very much in love with the idea he is thinking about it all the time now. As he gives Zeks the eye and she returns the regard regardless.

You see Fiddle was a bore but this other man was interested in music and Abdul was into that sort of too. The two guys listen to the music harmoniously.

That I am now no longer the centre of the world is without doubt but to think that the two men who had maliciously wounded me have ended up as friends makes me start and stare at myself. Why?

To make matters worse there is nobody to talk to but myself. Who does one turn to when the going gets rough who does one turn into when the going gets so certainly bad, I am being bland I’m I not but when they are chatting it reminds me of former times with dad and him chatting and he coming over and taking over the personality of father and trying to behave like dad.

This gives me the creeps. It is like creepy crawlies and there is nothing to it a tossup between what makes him happy and what makes me feel secure and all the time this growing sense that I am losing that I am losing that in fact did myself in for a loser that he has become a loser that he is a lost soul. That there is not going to be a recovery I have too much baggage that I am now practically on my own again and he does not even make me happy.

He is now so complex loving someone who is practically gay is never the same as someone who is straight the straight man loves women any number of them the gay man loves woman in imagination and in the way they speak and fondles them in the way they behave taking time to feel them of course once felt he leaves. Loses interest there is nothing more to be in when the woman has become his he wants another one because this one he now knows and is not thrilled by.

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