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madwoman

Wow.  All the joy that I was certain was irretrievable- is back.  Don’t be alarmed, there is no unpercieved sarcasm or latent punchline in this (for once).  For so long it had seemed that my life was one long stand up joke without a punchline (think ‘Aristocrats’, but cleaner), and I started to convince myself that death would be the only punchline.  Then…

I found my last demon hiding under the foot of my bed, blinking its yellow eyes slowly, and biting and scratching my ankles each morning that I woke.  It was there all along, cleverly disguised as a harmless black kitten; until I drug it out and thrust it into the sunlight with my weakened right arm- whereupon I saw how easily it could be killed.

I didn’t kill it right away, but took my time making it feel comfortable and at home; devising my admirable plan for vengeance.  After several sleepless pain ridden nights I decided how it would have to be done.  Once the family was safely out of the house, I set off for the hardware store.  When I left it was a sunny cool aesthetically pleasing day in late November:  when I returned the thunder clouds rolled across the sky like a stage curtain, matching my pace, chasing me.  Once in the house I hastened to shut the windows and close the blinds—I wanted no witnesses to the atrocious deed I was being forced to commit.  After quite a lot of banging with hammer and wood, the crate was ready, but the “cat” had disappeared.  I ransacked the house with the determination of a madwoman (which I was, by then) stopping only to speak with my husband on the phone, modulating my voice with faked sanity and practiced contentment, assuring him that everything was A-OK, hunky dory, swell; but perhaps I was coming down with a cold (to explain my failing voice); all the while still turning in agitated circles, ripping my hair out in clumps, losing my balance and injuring myself when my eyes rolled back in my head….

plants