Matilda, The Ugly, A Romance (Abridged) by Joanne Okano (yet more of Chapter Five)

      She had had it with mink by the third night you know and so had the kids.  That was another thing. They weren't kids, she said.  They were children.  But the relatives said kids and that was the way they stayed.  Kids.  Baby goats.  Not my choice, you would have said, if you'd been there.
     "I've had enough of this," said Gretchen.  "You don't like my cooking or my language," and they had to move on the four children and Mum before they had rooted in one spot.  They went home.  Wherever that was.
      I am writing this at 3.20 in the morning and I hope you can make sense of this but that's all there was.  At least that's the way she said it was.  But the neighbours knew better and knew that she was a blank and had blanked them with a blank blank, that's why they were all so good, blanking blank of kittens and suchlike.  They were temper tantrum children like her.  Not him.  He was blank.  He blanked the horses he blanked.

To Be Continued