We all have Needs
I am an old, old woman.
Past my prime.
Wrinkled and Bent.
I have spent the years in pursuit of one thing.
Power.
In that, I have succeeded. I tower over these fools, they are nothing before me. Even our exalted prime ministers, his pet, my former apprentice, Mandrake.
All of them are weak. Some more so than others.
But power, intoxicating though it is, is not everything.
Money may make the world go around, but it can't buy you love.
"……"
I strip down, slowly. Ever so slowly.
This is proving to be awkward.
But…… finally.
Extremely awkward.
I glance at the bathroom mirror.
Just a glance.
"……"
I touch my breasts.
I have to eat more.
Anyways, I purposefully stride towards my recent acquisition.
A hammer. A tool made for forcing nails into cement walls.
Of course I would have preferred something a tad bit more… customized. Aye, Gentle even.
But me walking into a store and buying such was out of the question. Imagine the scandal.
And, I've picked up; the pain makes it more enjoyable.
I lie on the Bathroom floor, take up the position…
…
"Aaahhh…"
We all have needs, you now.
Whitwell\Hammer.
