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Stroke III
Blue hadn’t managed a week away from home when she found she had started to miss Anya.
The woman had woken her every day for eighteen years. Bid her goodnight at the end of each day. Prepared her meals. Used the scented detergent she liked. Bought her toiletries. Listened to her petty grievances. Knew how to cook her eggs. How to make her bed in a way the loose sheets wouldn’t bother her. How to untangle the hair she was rather tempted to cut as short as she could. How to ease the girl’s worry with the gentle smile she always had. Though Blue feared Anya hadn’t missed her.
Marian hadn’t crossed her mind in quite some time.
She’d been away from home for a meager week. Vincent woke her each morning. They’d eat breakfast together. He’d set off to work, come home for lunch. They’d eat rather quickly. End up half-naked one way or the other, fuck and redress in a mere fifteen minutes. And she’d be left on her own until he’d return from work.
With h
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