Good and Irrational
Well, I did manage to meet my short story quota for the year, so that is nice. Right now I am not mired down in grieving, so that is also good. I am, however, angry. But what is new?
Now then.
My mother has gone insane. For some reason she has taken to telling me that my pets will die- yanno, as if that had never occurred to me- every time we talk. First, she could be led away from the topic, but slowly she has become relentless in mashing the point into my skull like an enormous railroad spike. I finally asked her why she was doing it but she simply ran out the front door before I could impress upon her how hurtful it is to keep confronting someone with such a thing, even if it will happen in the future. She ran. Came over yesterday and though she was a little colder than usual, she never apologized, just pretended that she had never hurt me. Yes, it hurt me. Those cats mean the world to me. No, I don’t really think that was the right way to go about getting me to visit you. Imagine that. If you hurt someone and don’t apologise, they don’t really want to come over and have talkies- especially if they are rightly afraid that you will trot out your new flogging horse while they are there.
read the rest of Good and Irrational
cats, 
