Praxis

He told her the story of his life, and informed her as to his principles. [...]
He did not want to hear Praxis’ life story, or Praxis’ principles. He wanted her life to have begun the day he met her, and his opinions to be hers. She could see it might be restful. It was how most women lived.

Pain in the elbow, the fingers and, since my abortive journey to the hospital, pain in my stamped-upon toe, is nothing compared to that pain in the heart, the soul, and the mind – those three majestic seats of female sorrow – which seems to be our daily lot.