It’s Too Cold


Don’t follow me. I come out here for a reason. I am the man of the house. I pay the bills. I bring in the drachmas. And what are you doing the temperature out here is not for a woman in your condition. Yes, I know how you got in that condition. Yes, I know who the father is. Yes, I won’t tell you what to do any more. Could you go inside? That can’t be too much to ask. What’s on my mind? Nothing. Nothing. I don’t know. People. Citizens. You, that, Rome. People, players, Gods, rules, rulers, Kings. Okay, there are some things on my mind. A fire-place. A fire-place with a warm blanket and you wrapped inside it. How can you say to me? I’ve told you everything, what more do you want from me? I have the skin on my face, would you care for that as well? I am asking you to go inside. I need you to do that for me. You know who you are. You are my wife. You are my other half. You are—interrupting me. Just plain ruthless interrupting me. You can’t see my point? Not my—sh. Sh. Someone is by the gate. Get out of here right now. I will. I will tell you everything. I will tell you all the appointments in my mind, all the little tics in my face, all the words rammed in my heart, but please—leave.

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