My mother's aunt. I don't understand her, which is why I can't bring myself to dislike her. She seems to have a pathological fear of me, and from the day I was born she has gone out of her way to shun me. Every time I have ever seen her I have made a point to say hi to her in the most polite and friendly way I can. Every time I do this, she stiffens and without a word she turns on her heel and walks away.
It's just as well though. I don't know what we'd talk about if she had actually bothered to have some sort of a conversation like a normal human being. I really can't think of anything innocuous to ask about. Her hysterectomy? The crazy that rubbed off onto her when she worked in a mental institution? Her horrible cooking? Her multiple divorces?
Or perhaps I could ask for advice about how to save every single penny you earn, alienate your friends and family, turn your previously domesticated cat feral while it still lives under your roof and then wonder why the hell you're lonely?
I think it's better that I say nothing.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
93/365: Sharon
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