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Reaching down she tried to wake him, shaking and calling his name, but the whiskey he had acquired, from where she didn’t know, had him in too deep a grip.Giving up, she looked down at him in disgust, rage boiling inside her, and then it exploded, years of bottled up rage giving her the strength to plunge a kitchen knife downwards, straight into his chest, plunging deep into his heart. Even though he died instantly, she kept plunging the knife, time and time again she stabbed until, just as quickly as it started, she stopped, just stopped.She looked at her husband, her now late husband, threw the knife onto his blooded lap and went and cleaned herself up, changing her clothes and packing a bag, looking around one last time and then left the house, accidentally knocking over an oil lamp, leaving flames spreading across the room as she walked out into the foggy night. There was no discernable pattern to whether or not you would be effected that day, its evil could turn one man wild,. But right now, I’m really very happy with him. Really. Can I leave now?’ ‘That is all, Miss O’Neil. I shall be seeing you for one more appointment discussing any traumatic or memorable experiences you’ve had working as a cop for the NYPD. I realize you’re very busy so I’ll have to schedule this next session for next month. Thank you so much for coming and good luck to you.’……………………….. THREE Hudson walked into Dr. Anne Ward’s and his session had been scheduled after Lexa’s. They didn’t see each other in passing however since Hudson had arrived late. From her sixth floor room window, she was able to see that it was his Camaro that had been the problem. He entered her room without knocking and was wearing a dark leather jacket, jeans and his cop sunglasses. He took them off and took a look at the psychiatrist with a sheepish smile. He sat down instantly. ‘Sorry I’m late, doc,’ Hudson said to her with a grin, ‘I had problems with my car.’ ‘Yes, I saw,’ she replied, ‘I’d ask you to.
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