He Opened My Family Vault for His Mistress…

women were doors.

A wife could open one.

A mistress could decorate one.

A mother could guard one.

A dead grandmother could be ignored as one.

He never imagined we were locks.

He never imagined we had combinations of our own.

My grandmother’s diamonds remain in Vault 7A.

I wear them sometimes.

Not to remember pain.

To remember pressure.

The gray chair is no longer continue reading …