Realia

A poodle lived in her shadow, it was not ill-treated, just ignored, its matted form wandered around the house looking to be noticed. The living room was littered with her underwear, discarded bras, panties, garters and negligee. I had no idea why these things all came to rest here, scattered around her like that. I was an occasional pal of her son. Once she fed a pink baby from her own white flesh as if not even noticing us boys. The soft upholstery of the sittee settled around her proclaiming her sovereign presence. The poodle hesitated to enter the room, knowing, as we did, we would never be part of her kingdom.