The Uninvited

for a place to settle. Her hair is no longerdark: it is five or six kinds of grey. Thischange must have occurred in the hospital.You hear about that, though mostly as aphenomenon in ghost stories about hauntedmansions with creaking doors. Her hairturned white overnight. A single lock,lighter than the rest – Pale Ash – snakesback from her forehead. I am reminded ofIndira Gandhi. Her skin shines clammily.It used to look like this just after sheapplied moisturiser. But I don’t think shehas done that now. She’d be incapable,and anyway, I’d smell it. Before Iofficially became a cuckold, I used to likekissing her forehead, then her cheek andthen her clavicle, before ‘working my waydown’ to more erogenous areas. Nothingcould tempt me to do such a thing now. A