Mildred was always the boss. She is ten minutes older than me. A difficult demanding woman to have as a twin sister.
I thought I was free of her when I married Agnes. Kind gentle Agnes who gave me peace and kept the children amused when I wanted quiet.
Agnes died and Mildred, or the Dread Aunt Mil as my children called her, just sort of moved herself in and stayed. I like insects, those tiny little marvels the world tends to ignore. Unless they creep into the bathroom.
Moths are my particular favourite. I tried to get Mildred interested to give us some common ground but she said they were disgusting.
She likes stamps, boring inflexible stupid stamps. Every evening when she tired of nagging me she would sit there licking away like an ugly old Anteater.
I buried myself in my books until bedtime. Then I buried Mildred, well we had to because she died! The nasty old Anteater turned up her toes!
The doctors were unsure as to why. Poor Mildred, she really should have listened when I told her how much poison from the Mexican Arrowhead Moth it would take to kill someone.
A tiny amount, just enough to cover a postage stamp and completely untraceable. Moths are so very clever, and way more interesting than stamps!