The man had bleak recollections of Sunday afternoons; the drone of the football results coupled with the scent of roast beef condensing on the walls. Sometimes he would pretend to be asleep on the sofa to absorb needles or attention with blindness. Later, he would sit motionless and silently in the corner of the room so as not to be taken to bed early. Going to bed would somehow entirely detach the ailing familial reassurance of Sunday in his cold room, as the ground floor filled with red liquid and the music of the 1960s.

He would now spend Sundays outside as much as possible, active and preoccupied; justifiably so, he would fathom. As he packed his car ready for his drive to Trent Valley, he paused at the sight of one of the objects in his boot just as a warming and desolate sound emerged from his neighbour’s house. He placed his hand over his heart as though to feel the ambivalence of the void. You better keep your head, little girl, or I won’t know where I am.


5 thoughts on “Prelude

    1. Anne! It’s so good to hear from you. My inbox was overflowing with you this morning and it was wonderful. How are you? Are the jellybeans in order? Tell me everything.

      Oh, and I think there is one more upcoming visit to Trent remaining. Perhaps.

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Whether you see it or not, your box is going to overflow with me as long as I shall live. There will not be a day the rest of my life, that all of you – from your love of Poe to your serious diabetic concerns (and a previously unadmitted common fear of pigeons), will not walk my own walk with me. I love you and your smelly goats and your finger sandwiches and your hairball monsters and your window pain puns as far as I can love you in text, and I shout it here and now (again) to the world! Nothing that I will ever further do or say will be done or said that it was not so first touched by Insanity Aquarium! ♥


    3. I read your new comments whilst on lunch today and it would be fair to say that they filled me with a longing to dispel the vacuousness of reality, and replace it with just you and me in our own wonderful world, eternally, forever.

      Thank you for that little bit of heartbreak. It was both unexpected and warming. I miss you, you know, very much.


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