Malarky

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— There’s no way round it, I’m finding it very hard to be a widow, I told Grief, the counsellor woman, that Tuesday morning.

— Are you missing your husband a great deal?

— Not especially. I miss the routine of his demands it’s true, but I am plagued day and night with thoughts I’d rather be without.

— Are you afraid to be in the house alone?

— Indeed I am.

— Are you afraid someone’s going to come in and attack you?

— Indeed I am not.

— And these thoughts, do they come when you are having problems falling asleep?

— No, I said, they are with me from the first sup of tea I take to this very minute, since three days after my husband was taken.

— Tell me about these thoughts?

— You’re sure you want to know?

— I’ve heard it all, she insisted, there is nothing you can say that will surprise me.

I, disbelieving, asked again. You’re sure now?

— Absolutely.

— Men, I said. Naked men. At each other all the time, all day long. I can’t get it out of my head.