11
Martha and Russell opened a new shop elsewhere, but it wasn’t long before they had to close down aga several thousand dollars in the process.
e, mid–lease. They lost
With no income, Russell became idle and short–tempered. After drinking too much, he’d come home and lash out.
While his wife was too fiery to tolerate him, wielding kitchen knives to keep him at bay, Martha became his punching bag.
“You useless old hag! You ruined my business and my life! If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have gone under. You’re a curse!”
No matter how much Martha tried to defend herself, Russell’s fists always seemed to land faster than her words.
“Why is this happening to me? I’ve always been a good person! I didn’t do anything so terrible–how did I end up as a pariah, hated by everyone?” Martha would sob after each beating.
With no other option, Martha started scavenging, collecting bottles and boxes from trash cans. One day, as I was taking out my garbage, I caught her rummaging through a dumpster.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Martha Maynard! What brings you here? Looking for gourmet ingredients?” I quipped.
Martha froze, her face contorting with embarrassment, anger, and humiliation. “Mind your own business!” she snapped.
Feigning innocence, I held up my garbage bag. “I’ve got a week’s worth of bottles here. I was going to offer them, but if you’re too busy, I’ll give
them to someone else.”
I called over a sanitation worker. “Hey, I’ve got some bottles for you!”
The worker beamed, thanking me profusely while Martha stood there, speechless. As I walked away, I turned back with a smirk. “Good luck finding your keys in there, Martha.”
Later, I heard she’d been caught fighting with other scavengers over trash and, unsurprisingly, ended up losing. She also tried faking accidents to extort drivers, but one day, karma caught up with her–she was fatally hit by a car while jaywalking. The driver, abiding by all traffic rules, faced no charges but offered a small payout out of humanitarian concern.
