She had a warm cunt, but that was the only compliment I could bestow upon her. Her demeanor was mercurial at best and downright catty at worst. Like my mother, she was of the gossip-mongering variety and didn’t know when to keep to herself. Her stiff hair, cutting eyes and excessively powdered face, which was clearly a poor attempt to downplay her wide nose, made looking at her quite difficult. I scoff at her silly attempts at female magic tricks; my Dear never attempted to fix any natural imperfections (self-perceived, of course). Her addition in my life was not a welcome one, but father’s wishes could not be ignored. So here I found myself listening to her screech about Mary so-and-so who was having an affair with Joseph so-and-so over a bland dinner while I could have been in the arms of my sweet Lilith.