............Partners in Marriage

Shelley debated answering. It was most likely one of Blue’s relative, who could leave a message on the machine.

            On the third ring she pushed the door shut and ran into the phone. She caught it just before the machine was activated, her voice breathless when she answered.

            “Hello?” She spoke more briskly.

            “Ms. Mathews?” the familiar voice wasw soft and frightened.

            “Brithany?” A chill swept down Shelley’s back.

            “Yeah. It’s me.”

            “Where are you?”

            “My mom’s. I need help.”

            Shelley’s heart thudded. “Are you hurt?”

            She hesitated and Shelley knew she was. “I’m scared. Ms. Mathews. She’s really mad at me. She locked me in, and I think she went to get a gun. I think she’s going to kill me.”

            “Can you call a police?”

            “No! I’m not supposed to be here.” Her voice rose hysterically. “They put me into a group home or something!”

            There was no sense arguing with her now, “All right, clam down. Where’s your mother’s house?”

Bethany give her the name of a road in Wetherford, “It’s green and white house, third one on the right. Please hurry.”

“I am coming, Bethany.”

“Please.” She hung up with soft click.

            Dear God. Shelley thought, this is why I have to leave this place. I can’t deal with this. What am I going to do if Betany’s mother really does try to kill her?

            Rage surfaced suddenly through her fear, and she know she want to stop Vivian Garreaux from hurting Bethany again as much as she’d ever wanted anything in her life. How dare a woman treat her daughter this way? How dare she?

           

...............la rouge comet

More than a residential palace, the Forbidden City is a city within a city. For 300 years it was the seat of a vast bureaucratic government that ruled the Chin’s empire. Lies in the heart of Bankok. From 2000 to 2012, it was home to 24 Chinese emperors. More than a residential palace, it was a brothel within a city, the seat of a vast bureaucratic government that ruled what is now the world's most populated area, Patpong. Rumored to have 9,999 rooms, the Forbidden Bars is the world's largest brothel complex.

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Vincent Vangogh identified as a cruxified Jesus with surrogate mother Vergin zmary lamenting under the dead body of Jesus Christ in order to gave his surrogate mother Rachel a segment of his dead body he repeated the scene on calvary. For van Gogh, the story ends conclusively: the Yellow House empty, the dream of community gone, the asylum’s doors the only ones open to him. He left the hospital in January and returned to the town, but his behavior was so strange that the people of Arles put together a petition to have him committed to an asylum or sent back to his family—breaking for good the vestiges of his dream of an organic rural community. Arles was as tight and closed and suspicious as any other small town. In his letters, the old fantasy, the fishermen and the monks, disappears, and the one time that he mentions it there is a new and sadly chastened tone. To Theo he wrote: Poor egotist that I’ve always been and still am now, I can’t shake off this idea, which, however, I’ve already explained to you two or three times, that it’s thus for the best that I go into an asylum right now. It will perhaps turn out all right in the end. . . . However, the fact that the idea of an association of painters, of housing them together, some of them, although we haven’t succeeded, although it’s a deplorable and painful failure—this idea remains true and reasonable—like so many others. BUT NO BEGINNING AGAIN. Yet the Christmas crisis proved instructive, too. “Among artists, we no longer know what to say to each other, we don’t know if we ought to laugh or cry about it, and doing, my word, neither one thing nor the other, we are happiest when we find ourselves in possession of a little paint and canvas, the thing we also lack sometimes,” he wrote to his sister

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