She had too many lucky escapes.
First a barrel of beer rolled off the brewers’ cart missing her by inches, followed by grease on the kitchen floor that had her sliding with a saucepan in her hand, while a broken step on the cellar stairs saw her all but fall through.
The he brought home a basket of mushrooms for her favourite omelette.
But she was out of eggs so she made soup instead.
Soup he ate greedily.
She didn’t see him die. He did that in the bed of his fat slatternly mistress.
But she could imagine his pain…
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