I'd cut to the chase. "You're damaged. Tell me about it."Anyone else would have walked out on me, a relative stranger, if I'd said that to them but no... her. You see, I can kind of smell it on them, it's a ‘hormone’ they give off.She'd opened up about it, relished recounting the sordid brutality yet the details were irrelevant because she needed to live through it in a variety of ways again and again and again - Freud’s compulsion to repeat.*"I'm going to fucking hurt you, you worthless, fat and. He got up, showered and then changed into jeans and a dark T-shirt. He then slipped on a high visibility work shirt.The shirt was faded with age, and the top fluoro-yellow half was muted. The lower dark blue section also had a well-worn tone. He rolled the cuffs a couple of times, but he didn’t button the shirt and left it loose. He dug out his soft leather work boots that were also suitable for hiking and some thick socks before he went upstairs.When he got to the veranda, he noticed the dark. More

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