Sunday, 8 January 2017

An Insignificant Recollection.

She always seemed anxious to talk to me. She even gave the impression that she needed some sort of connection with me, although the nature of that connection was never revealed. The problem was that whenever she did talk to me, she always did so from the top of a crenelated stone wall while I stood on the field below; and between us there was ever a moat, a raised drawbridge, a portcullis and a barbican. It was a position of impregnability from which she could step away and disappear at any moment of her choosing, and that’s what she always did.

I don’t think she ever checks into this blog now so she’ll never know I was talking about her. (Or even thinking of her.)

There’s a lot of tension in the air at the moment. I intend to make another post on January 14th if not before. It will probably be massively and unremittingly self-centred.

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