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' 'I stand legs crossed at' the ironing board, not knowing if I need to pee or pass wind. I'm worried if I move a leg both will happen, right here, right now. A growl ripples through my stomach like thunder. We ate curry cubes for dinner last night - orange boxes of ice that melt to liquid peach and chilli. It's the only way my husband can eat. Everything I cook needs to be water or ice or vaper or steam, no solid foods. They would fall straight through him like a coin down a wishing well. Except your wish never comes true and you're stuck in a house with a cloud for a husband. A big, white, lazy mass of watery-air husband...'
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Last amended 18 Jun 2019 16:40:18
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