7th April 2012 Easter Saturday
Been sitting here a long time now - deleting every sentence I write. It’s nearly midnight - the house is mouse quiet. I’m getting cold. Feel poisoned by a glass of wine I drank earlier and didn’t want. Mistake to think I’m keeping my husband company in this dangerous habit.
These are some of the questions my husband asks today.
What does negate mean? (as in once you label me you negate me)
Where’s Paignton?
Who’s Ted Heath? Jeremy Paxman? Freddie Mercury?
The Jungle Book - what’s that?
Anything I can do to help?
Is moo a word?
Where's Syria?
The answers float down into the air of the same black hole where the questions came from - dissolving like dust. Sometimes I let them wash through me - just hiccups bubbling in the river of my day - remembering to be patient. Today I feel like a hard block of parmesan being slowly shaved with a knife, left salty raw with a helpless rage I can only swallow down. Much more damaging - to both of us - than a glass of wine.
No comments:
Post a Comment