Today. Your roof is a pepperpot. The relentless splosh of rain upon the treasure you have stashed in the loft, the chorus to a night stuffed with torturous dreams. Those who do not lead parallel lives the minute they close their eyes do not know how lucky they are. Then your gentle entry into the morning is further disturbed by loud knocking, so that you have to run downstairs still rubbing a nightmare out of your eyes, to open the door to your next door but one neighbour, who fresh from the night shift is clutching a parcel he took in for you and has been trying to deliver, he says, for almost two weeks now.
You make coffee in the kitchen and carry it quietly back to bed, careful not to disturb your little one, for he is letting sleep heal the wound on his lip, and his eyelids are still fluttering on his cheeks. You open the curtains just enough to allow enough light in to the room to see, then crawl amongst lavender blankets to tear your little parcel apart. It is a
You dress again. A chinese kimono over a black camisole. Shetland wool slipper socks on your toes and your hair a tangle of curls and grey wiry interference. You force the bedroom into immaculate submission, singing Robbie Williams’ Loser’s under your breath (There will always be someone better than you…) and straightening a
Without the school run to shape your morning you are adrift. You make a banana and kiwi smoothie and watch Chowder with Finn. For once the house is warm and you feel content. Today you will make chocolate and pecan
Now there is cheese on toast to be made. Tiny slithers of cheshire cheese melted on to gluten free bread and cut into squares small enough so that a little boy with stitches in his mouth will not have to chew. The kitchen floor needs mopping. There is a pile of bills, correspondence and paper clutter to be filed. Bread to be fried into tasty little croutons. A litter tray to empty. A heavenly new
Boredom is never an option…