I have had enough of this shit. The only person I wanted to talk to was John, but he was at work. I didn’t know how he was going to react to what my...husband said and did. He called me as soon as he woke up. He was tired and didn’t sound like himself. The longer we talked the more he insisted, ‘What is wrong with you?’ I couldn’t keep it from him. I poured my heart to him. I explained the full condition of my marriage. His drinking, his lack of affection, everything just came out. He listened. He’s likely been murdered or abandoned by now. Given how visibly senile he was, there’s a decent chance that someone just euthanized him. It would be the merciful end for him. A quick rock or pistol shot to the back of the head and his troubles and stress are over for good. Or a snap of the neck for the same effect. What are your orders to me, now, as the temporary executive for the District of Columbia, and what is my title, exactly?” Randall dared to inquire of me now that he’d been named to. More

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