49. Doormat

The Obsessive Diary · Nov 6, 2025 · 3m

A black fly buzzes about the kitchen as I write, small and annoying. It circles me, persistent and I’m not surprised. That was him, single-minded and obvious. Of all of them he was the worst, not because his delusion was any greater but for his intent. The others – the people who had crossed my path and abused their power – were convinced, if they thought about it at all, that they were doing me good as well as themselves. But he knew he wasn’t. He was shooting fish in a barrel. That night by the fire, paint on my feet, I heard the word doormat and felt immediately frightened. I hadn’t…