(1) Every Tuesday Morning

Every Tuesday morning she wouldn't leave her bed. The nannies are unable to wake her and the maids are hesitant to disturb her rest. She lays there amongst the piles of stuffed toys and soft silken blankets and luscious furs as she stares blankly at the curtains around her bed. She is unable to move, to speak, or to eat, the only thing she is cable of is to weep and weep. Tear streaks can be seen on her soft pale cheeks, her pillow is laden with puddles from her tearful sleep.