Drunk women are cheap. Wow. So the man who regularly plied me with enough liquor for a frat party now has a new view on me drinking or smoking. Naturally, he's allowed to do both. He's allowed out. He has freedom, and I have dawdled to the brink of mental ruin by living inside his four walls without any normal anything. I get up just before dawn and sneak to the kitchen and have a long drink from the kitchen tap. Hoping that's enough water to sustain me for the day. Quietly I slip out of the door and start walking. I walk until I'm totally lost, in the middle of a field, far away from them. I sit down on the dusty dry earth with the ants and beetles and start reading my book, but can't focus. My eyes are blurring with pain. I hate this place. The sand is almost red, like iron oxide. It's hard and dry, unlike the fertile black soil at home. There's no moisture in the air despite the knowledge that there is a river close by.
