Old euphoric kicks have grown hellish. Her hopes sink into the monotonous echolalia. His defective brain generates a variety of ignominies. Day is dreadful. She always wants to hide him under the dark duvet. She finds pain and pleasure in his splinter skill with a piano. Though near, he lives afar. No emotion-bumper. She collides with the autistic fence. Motherhood is shattered in the wool-gathering. She feigns suicide with a noose to catch his attention, but it ends fatally. Her stiff body dangles from a rope. Piano tunes drizzle through the fantasy-shine. First published in The Literary Hatchet