She was the boss of our house; daddy was a wimp who had to cow tow to her demands or else be subjected to her wrath and discipline. My savior was my ...unt, if you can call it that. She had been my baby sitter for as long as I can remember, and meant more to me than my mother. Aunt Liz loved me and would take the time to play games with me, snakes and ladders, cribbage and even monopoly. She also baked lots of cakes and pies for me, I should say 'us' but she always made me feel she made them for. There was no point in hoping for more because hope was the enemy of acceptance, it agitated a peaceful balance like too many clothes on one side of the washing machine.Damn it, her fantasy world had tainted reality with hope and revived the sedated giant whose appetite for passion and pleasure was insatiable. It couldn't be caged, and it would try to fight or take flight, but that would be a battle she'd never win and where could she run. She'd be used up and undesirable before she got free,. More

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