My shirt hung half-buttoned and un-tucked over the waist of the sweats. She had let down, and her face was washed clean of makeup. ‘Pick what you w...nt to drink’ I said, ‘I have to get out of these ‘pity me, I like to look homeless’ clothes’ I continued, and she laughed, again like the old Jill, as I went to use the bathroom myself. In the bathroom her night-out clothes were balled and thrown haphazardly into a corner next to the shower—something very un-Jill like. A pair of gossamer-thin, lace. I can’t think of a more lousy pair of human beings, except maybe my sister. My sister is a real piece of work. A sociopath who hates men and uses people like pieces on a chess board. She’s got no conscience whatsoever but she’s good at hiding that from people. She can’t hide it from me. She got married to some sucker who was on welfare his entire life. I pity the fool. He doesn’t know what she is. Oh, well. She’s his problem now. The further she stays away from me, the better I’ll feel.. More

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