Angst and the Key as Antacid

I’m not usually anxious, self-doubting or …what’s the other thing? but this morning (dread’s the other thing) I had this butterfly in my stomach and couldn’t explain how it got there.  This is no surprise to me this year which has undermined my thinking I understand anything.  I thought the angst must be from deciding to get down to reading through the final edit of CORRESPONDENCE.  Writing it out is quite good for settling the stomach but that didn’t quite work.  What did was hearing a clatter, looking out the back and noticing a plant pot had been thrown.  Diana was at her exercises.  The cleaner was also anxious, self-doubting and in dread because of this and asked me to escort her to the outdoor cupboard she would return her pail, mop and other sundries to.  This I did.  We then had a chat about Graham who’d been her co-cleaner and hanged himself from a tree – just the uplift I needed.  If only he’d talked to me, if only I’d said he could any time.  Fate’s fate, and destiny’s not far behind. 

No sooner was I upstairs again than Diana called for the use of my back-up outdoor key to make a copy of since she’d lost hers and the door was always being locked against her, nor did her electronic key work because Adrian Glover, her devil incarnate, cast a spell made it inoperable.  Yvann popped out his door to pop into this.  He’d never seen or heard this diabolical Adrian who does exist  but primarily in Diana’s self-defeating head.  I wanted Diana’s electronic key to show it did work on the outside front door but she wouldn’t relinquish it till we’d heard all her diatribe which did not once contain the catch-phrase, ‘to cut a long story short.’ 

To cut a long story short, she went off to have a key cut while Yvann asked me in to his place, entirely clothed I may say, then came up to mine for a cup of tea.  He’s lonely, he said and has given up the armed robbery he went to prison for.  I took a look about to make sure I hadn’t been robbed.  He’s only twenty-two too.  He’s also decided to go hetero with Sabrina.  Hadn’t I heard them at it?  I hadn’t, I confessed, adding I myself moved the rattling head board table when my boyfriend came.  He, I went on, is trying to feminise me and I have always been against women’s buttoning on the other side which Yvann said was underlining the obvious – and so on.  I had to go for an eye appointment, which took hours and cost a packet, so excused myself but Yvann could come up any time and I’d …well, enough to say he laughed his donkey laugh at that very idea on his leaving.  He’d been abused at eight, his poor sister at three. 

Here I am, completely butterfly free, having been successfully deflected from getting down to any work on CORRESPONDENCE and I’ve The Standard to collect and read next, and tea to make.  What’s on tele tonight?


About johnbrucecairns

I'm a retired history teacher who's written for most of his life with a book readied for publication.
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