Liberty's Sparkle (34)

   
   "Liberty's Sparkle (34)"
   
   Wanda was sitting upon an opulent couch afforded by the wicked normality of her brain, sipping fancy wine, almost chewing the elegant, Italian grape, tasting the flavors of American success, knowing she was fit to survive.
   Her accountant husband next to her, a sublime nerd, fashioned after the best of men, for he had a heart of  gold, having a bit of cautious contempt for the arrogance that always fell out of his wife's bravado-breathing mouth, and he hated kissing it, always wishing her human fabric was crafted by things divine, yet she had hooked him with the bait of wanting, wanting a suburban stronghold and the ostentatious gifts of capitalism that those with weary souls could never possess, at least not in this world.
   She had been fuming over her little brother's weakness and lack of confidence, as she saw it, not knowing the mysteries of God, and that he had battled a myriad of demons since birth, being braver than the rest.  And her husband named Jacob knew the truth of Tom, of his quirky suffering--a toxicity that was sucking him into states bizarre.
   And as Wanda continued to complain about his infantile behavior, Jacob became fueled by a spirit that was holy, desiring out of sublimity, a way to help Tom.  To allow him a bit of happiness, which in this country means wealth.  So, instead of that raunchy mink coat she desired for the winter ahead, Jacob would afford Tom a gift.  A chance at survival, and a means to raise his child, knowing the young man deserved, at least, respect and honor for having been so tortured and tormented in life.
   And intoxicated to the point of stupidity, Wanda's offensive mouth offered to the Ears of God:  "I just wish that little prick would die."
   Jacob poured his ruthless wife more wine, saying:  "Yeah, all gimps deserve death."
   Wanda, so drunk off her ass, not seeing the irony, stated:  "Maybe he'll get cancer and learn a lesson or something."