My world is halved

‘These damn citizens.’ I pause in filling the amphora with the newly pressed olive oil, holding the pouring jug in one hand, keeping the amphora still with two, and wiping my sweating forehead with my fourth.

‘What now, mother-in-law?’ Helen pauses too, her hands floury from kneading bread dough. One of her faces glances at me, while the other concentrates on the bread.

‘I know we elected them, but they have no more sense than goats,’ I say. I upend the jug and shake out the last drops of the gold...