Single-parented most of the time, it's a wonder

I turned out as well as I did. One day he sailed

away – travelling salesman hawking his sword

arm to the highest bidder. I don't think she, the

endlessly patient, cared that much – content to

ravel and unravel in her tower – keeping at bay

the ravenous suitors. So when he finally turned

up, paunchy and short-sighted, she pecked each

cheek then went back to her loom – left the old

man shuffling downstairs with his interminable

monster-beating yarns, a bad back, and his beer