Write four lines of prose about: the mistress.
Collected a whole lot of snow and shelling peas, 19 pints of raspberries, a couple heads of green cabbage, and a little bit of rhubarb for the market tomorrow. Taking the last of the cherries with us as well so it should be a good one, especially with it being a long weekend.
Also? Bringing a pint of blackcurrants. We only have two plants, and I was really just picking them to give to Kat's mom. But she somehow convinced me to bring them tomorrow to try to sell them, because 'Someone might want them!'
Which is fine.
But I have absolutely no idea how much to charge for them.
Oh well, if nobody buys them I'll just bring them back home and Kat's mom can make jam out of them.
In the early morning light she moves through the empty apartment on bare feet, her t-shirt falling just short of her knees. Though there are no other occupants, nor are any expected to arrive before nightfall, she feels unwelcome, unwanted.
Not by him, of course.
But by the other woman in his life, the one that, sooner or later, she must face.