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desire to defend my newly won possession with tooth and nail, and with glaring, ignoring all of the already visible warning signs.
"We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell."
Said Oscar Wilde - how right he was. I would later have plenty of opportunities to experience that at close quarters - but I learned nothing from this. Instead I fell into a stage of miserable misjudgment and unrealistic planning optimism, the feeble Rumpelstiltskin effect: “Today I bake, tomorrow I brew, the day after I’ll fetch the queen’s child.” But there was no queen. I was now mixed up with a different being, a paranoid woman who, as I would read later, belonged psychologically in the category “Lucifer’s daughter”. Yet, my subconscious constantly failed to prevail even when I perceived increasing changes in Martha’s personality. Three months the sampling process lasted, with sex, pub crawls, and parties.
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This morning Martha informed me that she has had a pregnancy test that is positive. Well, that is a surprise! I know little about the process of pregnancies, but even my modest knowledge gives me certain doubts about the rush from first sex to a sudden pregnancy, but I avoid out of chivalry going deeper into the topic because I think that this would be dishonorable. Instead we move into a luxurious flat in the elite Elbe suburbs. Martha instantly resigns from her position as a flight attendant and that is accepted with relief – she s is not very popular with her colleagues because of her selfishness and egocentric character. Six and a half months later, after an extremely short pregnancy, the daughter is born in a private clinic in Heilwig Strasse. Her doctor explains to me that it is a premature birth nothing to worry about. There is no Caesarean. I have never met the doctor before. Martha carries on as if she were the only mother who had ever born a child. Everything orbits around Rachel. That is the name Martha has chosen. It was supposed to be a Jewish name, since she feels very close to that religion. She pressures me every day to get my divorce from Beatrice, the application was handed in, but it lasts some time – does she not understand?
“Do you want your daughter to grow up as a bastard?” She says-
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