The treatment of this is a cold hard kiss, a stinging slap in the face, a blistering edge to trace. Making no difficult decisions, full of suppressing suspicions, answers no longer there even when stripped bare, even though this weighs stones, flabby, fatty flesh on bones. The sun goes down and smooth faces frown. This whole existence is not much more than a pittance, crimes committed till the lights go out. Then hidden under the covers there is nothing but doubt.