Asshole, cock-sucking sonofabitch.Louise stabbed her small spade into an innocent mound of dirt and turned it over with more zeal than care. Asshole. Gods, when she got her hands on him. As if she couldn’t recognize the imprint of his big, fat, dumb head in a couch cushion.Rose had come over for a cup of tea first thing. Some ranting had been done. It couldn’t be whining when you projected your voice so well. Turned out Louise could project pretty damn well when she put her mind to it. Rose’s eyebrows had climbed higher and higher. It had felt kind of nice to have a girlfriend to confide in once again. She’d missed it.In went the spade again, with great vigor and little skill. She’d pull a muscle in her arm at this rate. Asshole, asshole husband. She had sent him a com saying as much. Its succinctness had pleased her no end. He had not deigned to reply.Normally the gardens soothed her—all the rich, fertile smells and the cool, damp air. Nothing could calm her today. She had tucked herself away in a corner of the overgrown jungle to spare the others her shitty mood.
