Gerald told his wife of twenty years that she was fucking ugly, packed a small bag and left the matrimonial home. 

​Phyllis stood before the mirror wondering what had happened. She had the same face he said he fell in love with, just twenty years older.  Forcing herself not to cry, she told herself  he would be back soon.  Where would he go in the snow?

Well, Gerald was at the airport buying a ticket back to Jamaica.  He had been talking to a sweet young thing on the internet, and he could not stand to be away from her any longer.

​After a long tiring flight Gerald finally arrived at the address given to him by his darling. He was quite surprised to find a large imposing Church.  Not having any idea what to do next he went up to the door and knocked.

​Sister Mary Ann opened the door looked out and shouted.

​"There is another one at the door.  Please take the Lap top away from Sister Margaret."



 

​My focus from High School was to excel in my exams in order to have a meaningful career.  My father was very supportive of this, and did his best to see I had everything I needed.

​My mother insisted I learn to cook.  Much to my dismay she stood over me while I cooked Sunday dinner, until she was satisfied that I could do it on my own.

​Now, standing in my own kitchen, I was very glad for those Sunday lessons.  I watched with pride as my brand new husband enjoyed a meal I had just cooked.  He leaned back in his chair to unbutton his pants and the button came off in his hand.

"I guess you will have to sew it back on," he said, holding up the button.

​"I can't sew," I replied.

"What do you mean you can't sew?" He said, throwing the button on the plate.

"Well I cannot sew.  I can fuck and I can cook, do you expect me to sew too?"

​"Yes," he answered.

​"Well two out of three isn't bad, so deal with it,"  I said, throwing the dishes in the sink. ​

Mrs. Blake packed her car every morning before going to work.  She was terrified of people stealing her things. Every morning the routine was the same.  First the microwave then the toaster oven, the iron, the blender and the television.  She laid her clothes on the back seat and her shoes on the floor of the car.   At the end of the day Mrs. Blake unpacked it all, needless to say she was always tired.

​Anthony, Mrs. Blake's son knew his mother was sick in the head, but there was very little he could do about it.  Nothing he did or said made the slightest difference to her. Finally in desperation one day while Mrs. Blake was at work, Anthony burned her house down.

​All attempts to get his mother to live with him fell on deaf ears.  Mrs. Blake said he was a man and she would never live with a man again.  Mrs. Blake set up house in the parking garage at her office.

​On the day the Police came to remove her, Mrs. Blake got a tip from the parking attendant and managed to leave seconds before they arrived.  Not knowing where to go, she found herself on the new highway going out of town.

​Three days later, a fisherman retrieving his net, was surprised to find instead of fish, a television, a toaster oven and a microwave.
​

​ Me and Hilda sat on the bed and counted the Cialis.  Two were missing since the last count.
"That's ten gone and he has not made love to me,"  I told Hilda turning to look at her.
"Never Mind Miss Janet, we can figure out a way to get him home," Hilda said, replacing the bottle.
"No Hilda, I don't think I can compete with her, she is a much younger woman and very pretty."
"This is not a competition Miss Janet, him married unto you, and so he should behave himself," said Hilda with conviction.

I looked at Hilda with envy.  Nothing bothered her.  She had long given up men to serve the Lord.  She said she did not have to wash the Lord's clothes or cook for him.  As long as she said her prayers and attended Church, He was happy and so was she.
"What do you suggest I do?"   I asked Hilda.
"Swap out some of the pills for some of your sleeping pills,"  said Hilda.
"No, we need something permanent.  That would only make him well rested."
"I think I have another idea Miss Janet, come with me to the study."                
                         
Later that  day I dropped an envelope in the mailbox of the pretty young thing. That night Alex came home early. It was not even dark.
"What happen, street lock up?" I asked him, looking for signs of distress.  I don't know why I expected  him to be upset.  He was a master of lies and deceit.  He shrugged his shoulders, looked me straight in the eye and asked.

"Did Hilda cook?" 
                                      
Meanwhile,  two streets over the pretty young thing shuddered as she thought of her narrow escape.   Spread out on her dining table were copies of Alex's last medical report, his latest Bank statement and a copy of her overdue credit card statement.