by M. J. Joachim
“I wonder how the poor people are doing,” she said smugly as she sipped champagne and dined on filet mignon for breakfast. Her contempt for their plight was obvious. She reeked of heavy, expensive perfume. Her hair was coifed high, sprayed at the Royal Salon to achieve daily perfection.
“They deserve their wretchedness,” she proclaimed. “It’s all about choices, after all. They made their beds. Now they must sleep in them.”
Her husband flinched as he heard the words yet again. Her mockery of the poor had always made him sick. He never said a word, at least not until now.
“Get out! Get out you wretched, wicked whore! Here are the clothes you wore when I married you. Take them and leave from my sight forever! You made your choice to mock from where you have come! I’ve made mine to send you back there once and for all!”
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Photo credit: Hieronymus Bosch (circa 1450 – 1516), PD – US
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