The patter never stops… his body displays what he wants it too, calm, acceptance, peace… She circles and comes back around, listening. She stamps ...nd whinnies, throws her head around eyes rolling. Planting her feet, facing him, pawing the ground. She was warning him. Threatening him. Telling him to run away or she would hurt him. He never changes and the patter never ends. He watches as her sides heave, she moves sideways, indecisive, sidling around behind him. He knows the danger here but. Great that inches off all round. Time to try on some of my old clothes. I find an older bra, that fits ok, but try as I might I can't find any knickers to fit. Ok new knicks tomorrow. Now that tight dress, yes still a bit tight but it fits much better now. I buy six pairs of new knickers and carry on with my regime. Although I'm now wearing different clothes, no one seems to notices my weight loss, still it's still early days.It's payday again, and I know I have lost weight, my bras are so. Something that wasn't my fault, just a real divorce in real life, a hateful relationship between my mother and my Dad, all these years.Just because my Dad was the macho type and my Mother a woman that truly believed on the equality of rights between men and women.Sounds really weird that a chauvinist male married such a woman, but they did and I, Henry James Garcia was their son.Finally after weeks in a San Francisco court they divorced and we went to live in Oakland, Dad went back to his. In this park, here in her ‘happy place,’ she felt none of it. Down in the city, she knew, was her real life and her future, and the place where she felt most alive, where she felt vital. But up here on Meredian Hill she felt herself an old soul, secure, with a place in the universe all her own, completely comfortable in her skin. As it was her day and hers alone, she wore nothing under her dress. Alone and buoyant, she jumped on the swing and sang the first song that came in to her head: Papa.