… I never really loved Judy. She was a bit dumb, actually. Judy was an easy-going gal, a simple mind that saw marrying a writer as the ultimate goal, the greatest achievement for her dull, uninteresting life.
She was soon disappointed, however. As you’ve probably noticed I was never a good writer nor would ever be. To that you can add that, if not lazy, I’m at least indifferent to what happens around me. And Judy was far too much stupid for me to care about her needs. She would want this or that, she would complain about this and that, she endlessly nagged and nagged like the obtuse cow she indeed was. I couldn’t care less. Whenever I was at home, and I spent most of my time there, I would sat down on the living-room sofa and completely ignore her peskiness; just watched TV or played with my lap-top. Sometimes she would turn the TV off and would bark out loudly: “Answer me! Answer me!” Of course, I wouldn’t and instead would light and smoke a cigarette because I knew how much she disliked smoking indoors.
After a while she finally grasped the connection between smoke and TV and stopped turning it off. She would nag herself into a trance and that would make me smile and she would cry and eventually, although not often, I would go and comfort her – you see, I didn’t want her to rebel; from time to time I had to throw her a bone or two.
Then she started drinking, and that I really enjoyed. I just loved to tease her and taunt her when she was drunk. She would start crying and sobbing that “I didn’t love her”, to which my usual response would be in the line of: “For once you’re saying something intelligent Mrs Wolf, how did you manage?” Or, “Love you? I couldn’t love such a putrid piece of foul animal meat as yourself”. These clarifications would invariably bring more crying and sobbing to which I would respond by feeding her with extra alcohol, until she would collapse to sleep.
Sometimes I also enjoyed slapping her around or fucking her hard and deeply humiliating her in the procedure, abusing her with the filthiest language I might possible came up with, mortifying her as much as I could …
|