Thursday 11 September 2014

Family and a Fiendish Bird.

Today I had a scheduled meeting with my daughter who I haven’t seen for about 3½ years. I thought we had become irretrievably estranged, but it seems not.

It was good – convivial, frank, open, easy; there was a lot to talk about because a lot has happened to both of us over the last 3½ years, much of it on the psychological front. And yet afterwards I felt rattled. I felt as I always do in such circumstances – as though I’ve opened up too much, too easily, which just goes to show what a private person I am beneath this manic-depressive and generally irrelevant exterior.

That’s why I haven’t made any posts today – too rattled. Instead I spent the evening editing an old story of mine, one I’ve been holding back for reasons which I can’t be bothered to explain. It’s about visions of a talking corpse, a girl with red hair and a green dress, apparent time shifts, convoluted logic, and a mysterious thin man in a black cloak who seems sometimes to assume the form of a homicidal cormorant.

One of these days – probably sooner rather than later – I’ll format it and post it to the other blog.

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