Shame

I could charge a good price for my little bottles of shame. With a mister top or a dropper, depending on how you planned to apply it, they were terribly convenient. Everybody knows somebody who needs a little more shame. I heard from people whose spouses had stopped drinking, whose bosses had stopped screaming, whose landlords had lowered the rent. And I heard from people, too, who put a drop on their partner’s pillow just to keep them in line. That was good. It kept the supply up.