The door closed quietly behind JennyG.

Sandra, Jennyo, and Freda sat dumbstruck, wondering what the hell they could say to Magenta about the psychological impulses behind her stories that night. What could they, as women, learn from the archetypal themes Magenta had laid before them tonight, in her potent and powerful tale? Usually they pondered how, as sisters, they could strengthen their bonds against the oppressive male patriarchy that these stories often portrayed.

Most sessions, at least one would feel moved by the story of the night, and reveal a tale of abuse or betrayal from their past, as the themes triggered memories and feelings all too painful.. But tonight, they were all strangely silent, watching Magenta, who was breathing heavily and seemed overwhelmed by the bloody images she had just described.

As Freda got up and turned the light on, Baxter, her three legged cat, climbed up to the window and out.

Within a few seconds, ..HISSSSSS... WOWWWWWEEEE... Baxter lept back in, back arched, hair electrified, screamed, leapt onto Jennyo's lap, gripping his legs into her cloak and howling til his eyes popped.

Shiva, muttered Freda, what's out there?