Fifth strand in place

Gentle Reader,


I woo Clyde Daily. What I don’t understand is why it feels like such a chore. I have always lived for the romance and excitement of wooing my next quarry, yet with each new husband since Jeff, the passion of the undertaking eludes me.


I have married another, this is husband #5. I will bear his child without protest; I go through the motions of woohoo with no love, no joy, and no release. I need a distraction from these self inflicted obligations.


I invited the gypsy over for a quick boost to my morale. I will need strong aspiration points to survive this farce of a marriage. The blind date she supplies me is a man like no other I have met before. She is good at her job; for this Quavi Robbins stirs feelings long suppressed and forgotten. Perhaps I have found a replacement for my beloved Jeff… or perhaps it’s just my age catching up with me at long last. Either way, I have decided to take things slowly with him.


My boys, Geoffrey and Jefferson mock Clyde as he celebrates Daniel’s transition. Clyde believes my boys are joining in the merry making, only we know better. The Widow family has their own ways of celebrating as I have shown earlier; such as dancing on the graves of fathers.


This toddler, this Daniel has not endeared himself to me. I will teach him his skills for I have birthed him. What I question now is what kind of toddler transitions in to an animal’s skin and wants to buy new clothes?

Be blessed,
Negrita

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