[ WP ] You wake up . The world is now governed by the qualities and physics of a 9-year-old 's classroom doodles .

Sally and I have decided that divorce is the best way forward. Marital strife has always plagued us. I am not sure we ever really got along. And yet, it had seemed as if things were looking up, lately. We had decided that our affairs, past and future, were necessary luxuries that neither of us could forgo, if we were to tolerate one another. Isabel, we agreed, was worth our mutual efforts - traditionalism died hard with us, even amid the mutual unfaithfulness from which we had wretchedly knit the pieces of our family back together. We both agreed that there remained a fondness within us, that the moment the stork brought Isabel into our lives was a perfect moment of honest clarity, where we were bound, for the one and only time, along a path of mutual love. 
 
 Still, it was cruel of Isabel. To draw Mummy as an elephant, and Daddy as a mouse. My morning alarm was a harrumph of displeasure, a stampede by way of exit, and a feeling of bliss once the bed was my own. Like every other morning. I received a text some hours later, where Sally explained that the sight of me filled her with fear and disgust, and that she needs space.
