Love, My Hell Life

LIFE IN A GILDED CAGE

This book is the result of a writing which was intense but was spread over a few years.

Erotism, sex are the key to find the sparkle in the other one's body, it's a universal function.

Sex is not only about making love, sometimes it's just a wild desire to be taken, it doesn't mean that we're not normal people, it's only the answer to the call of the body.

I thus thank all the people who love and support me.

My imagination uses and abuses me, makes fun of me, play a tune of (c)horns and muses, May the music of these words tempt you ...

Writing is more than an art! It's an outlet!

CHAPTER 1

LIFE IN A GILDED CAGE

"Come on and sing, sing life, come on and run, run little girl, come on, come on we're gonna dance, come on, come on we're gonna have fun", Abigail sings to cheer herself up as soon as she gets up.

It's a morning like any other morning, a painful wake-up because it's still early but welcome as the night was short, full of cuddles and missionary positions under the duvet. Up at 6am: to make coffee for her husband Rowan and hot chocolate for the kids Joe and Cayla. A touch of tiredness knocks her out when she thinks of her daily schedule: waking up the family, cleaning, then in the afternoon, shopping.

"Come on and up you get!" she tells herself. She gets started, brings coffee to her husband and wakes the girls up softly with a kiss on their foreheads.

Rowan shaves and the girls get dressed. A daily routine follows, a perfectly-oiled morning. Mr. goes to work and the girls to school.

Abbigail attends to her tasks: dusting, vacuuming, mopping-up floors, changing linen, in short, the whole shebang! In the afternoon she'll be pushing the shopping cart isle by isle. When that's finally done, quick, it'll be time for the school run.

Abigail is sharp on time at the black gates of her daughters' primary school. She waits patiently for the bell, and sees Joe and Cayla's little faces.

The bell rings, the kids come out two by two, class by class, and here are the little ones, running towards Mum.

- Come on girls, off we go! Hurry up as I've got to put the shopping away and there's homework to do tonight.

It dawns on her that she's almost finished her day, only homework and cooking left to do and, well, that's doesn't seem much fun.

It's almost 6.30pm. The homework is done and tonight they'll have baked potatoes, cheese and ham. It's another hour before Rowan is back from work. That's the drawback of being a pharmacy salesman.

As soon as he hangs his jacket and rolls his sleeves up, they sit down for a quick dinner, gobbled up in a few mouthfuls. Now shower-time for the girls and then washing-up.

When she has finished her last chores, she joins her husband on the sofa to chat about the day, but he's already asleep in the company of Morpheus.

She smiles and thinks aloud, "Morpheus is much luckier than me: he sees, sleeps and probably chats with my sweetheart more than I do". She has a quick shower, and when she returns, she approaches Rowan softly, tickling him to incite him to shower first, and join her in bed right after.

"", Abigail sings to cheer herself up as soon as she gets up.

A thought hits her: "Sure, I have a nice apartment, a husband and kids, but my everyday life isn't stimulating or fun." Her life is structured around the household chores she does for those she lives with, not for herself.

"I'm not unhappy but I don't have a passion of my own, a means of contributing financially, or a sense of independence and autonomy, friends, outings, anything to show me I exist in my own right, not just as a spouse, housewife or mother."

A kind of despair has sapped her spirits since dawn. She lets herself imagine something different, a different place, different people, a different name, almost as if she wanted to be somewhere else, in somebody else's skin. Almost a reincarnation.

Come on, stop daydreaming! Get a grip on yourself! She dashes off to the coffee-maker to prepare a coffee for Rowan, goes to the girls' room and wakes them in her usual maternal way.

It's already time to leave, everyone has had breakfast, is washed and dressed, with coats on, ready to head to school. Rowan takes his black briefcase, his velvet jacket and goes to his car where he'll spend the whole day on the road selling pharmaceutical products to doctors.

After dropping off her kids Abigail goes back home, heats water up in the kettle and has a cup of tea.

She sits down in the kitchen, shuts her eyes a moment, sighs deeply, blows on her hot tea and lets herself be flooded by an unknown and inconceivable craving.

She starts to soliloquize: "Why? Why do I live this way? As a recluse... I don't have a life although I live well. I'm comfortable financially, I'm not deprived of anything but I don't have any friends, any passions and I'm already thirty! This isn't normal, I've got it all and yet it doesn't mean anything to me. I have two adorable little girls, a husband, a nice car and there's something that makes me believe I can have more. What a strange feeling ..."

The morning goes on and slowly her melancholy fades. Busying herself in the kitchen that afternoon, she asks herself what Rowan and the girls are doing, if they're thinking of her and whether they miss her. She imagines their activities: Rowan and his negotiating tricks in front of doctors, and Joe and Cayla laughing and playing with friends.

When the dinner is ready she notices the time, she quickly puts her coat on and runs to meet the girls at school.

As she greets her beloved children, she can't help asking them how their day was and if they have missed their mum.

The little ones take it in turns to relate their mishaps at school as they drive off.

Rowan is back home earlier than usual and the little family sit down for dinner straight away.

Fork in hand, with the napkin laid neatly to one side, everyone is waiting for the dish whose smell is making them hungry.

Abigail brings the beef stew and serves everyone. She's expecting at least a bit of gratitude but gets only silence in return, even criticism from Rowan who complains about the lack of seasoning.

The girls are in their pyjamas. Rowan, slouched on the sofa, wants peace and quiet and asks them to go to bed. A goodnight kiss and off they go.

Abigail starts to enjoy a cozy moment with her husband, and starts a conversation: "How was your day – your customers – not too bad? And the journey? How's your back?"

His only response is a gesture for her to hush as he wants to watch the news on TV. She wonders if the female news-presenter gives her husband more pleasure than his wife does ...

She keeps quiet and goes back to the kitchen to do the dishes. Rowan comes in and tells her in a sarcastic tone: "Tonight it's football, my dear!" as if to say: "If you want to watch TV anywhere other than the living room that would be great, I want to keep the flat screen for myself."

She lowers her head and resigns herself to go to sleep alone. In her dreams she flies away, and she nourishes her hope of something more.

French pun for « cornemuse » (bagpipe)