She stood looking out of the small window in the turret, the last rays of the sun hitting only half of her face, leaving the other half shadowed. The chocolate colour of her skin glowed warmly in the waning light, giving her an other-wordly appearance. Night was Marie's most favourite time. No - not favourite - most potent time. She felt a power at night akin to no other time of the day. Of course, this was when the spirits, demons and gods were most powerful also. This was the time she could commune with them, alone: no children to mind, dinner cooked and cleaned up, the missus tucked early into bed like an 80-year-old lady.
Marie sniffed scornfully as she thought of her mistress, Tammy. Touched, she thought, touched in the head.
"And her living in the lap of luxury, while others workin' for a livin'," Marie thought, stretching her back and hearing the small cracks of joints and tendons. "She got no deservin' of it. Let her live the hard life of some and see how she goes. See if she survives."
But she knew it was because of Tammy's tenuous grip on sanity that she, Marie, had a job where she lived in a beautiful house and raised two beautiful boys. It paid well, she had one full day off a week, her own private room in the turret, good food, and there were benefits: medical and dental, as well as .....extra perks. She smiled to herself as she remembered the afternoon previously when Mr. Gerald called her to his den as Tammy and the boys napped.
She thought back to a time before this job.