FORTY THREE

Mary looked from Emma to the shattered glass on the ground, with a shocked expression on her face, and then the brown liquid that had started crawling its way under the carpet. She could see bubbles forming and popping on the liquid.

“Why do you always have to be so incompetent?” The old woman shouted angrily pointing her fingers at her. She watched the veins on her neck protrude as she shouted. Mary Wondered what was wrong, why did Emma suddenly react that way? Mary was already shaking like a frightened little girl, she feared she was going to have a panic attack. Emma’s fingers looked like they were ready to pluck out her eyes, and at that moment Mary longed for her mother’s embrace, she longed for someone she could run into their hand for safety lest she would be consumed by her fears.

She was scared, and at the same time surprised, surprised that just like that the woman’s mood swings had come and she was once again the grumpy over bearing woman that she used to be. Mary wondere