The giant thorn that’s been under my skin for a year and a half
has finally been removed. I’m exhausted. I fell asleep in the bath.
Maybe tomorrow will be the start of a brave new world. I
hope the same also holds true for the thorn. I hope it grows and blossoms.
No more from me until tomorrow. I don’t ever remember
feeling as desperately tired as I have tonight. It was a tough operation that
required hours of careful thought and readjustment. Fortunately, the thorn
provided plenty of natural anaesthetic, so it didn’t hurt quite as much as it
might have done.
3 comments:
Ouch, why was it in there so long Mr B?
Perhaps this was not a physical thorn? Am I reading too much into your words?
It was allegorical, Mel. Streams of consciousness tend to come out that way with me. It's a bugger sometimes.
We're getting Spanish air at the moment, apparently, so please don't become Miss Haversham just yet!
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