On Gaining Notoriety.

I was walking down The Hollow today when I saw that it was blocked by a big stationery vehicle. There was a man standing next to it and a large hose was snaking from the top of the tanker – for it was that kind of vehicle – down into one of the road drains. The Hollow was one of the lanes badly flooded during recent wet spells, and since I’ve long been curious as to how the professionals clear blocked drains, I thought I’d stop and seek a tutorial on the matter.

He gave me one, only the explanation was a bit garbled so actually I’m none the wiser, but that isn’t the point of the post. The point is that he said to me ‘I’ve noticed at the bottom of your garden…’

Bottom of my garden? How did he know who I am and where my garden is? He was a complete stranger to me, so how did he come by this knowledge?

This happens all the time, you know. I do my best to stay apart and play the recluse, and the next thing you know I’m hearing Hi, Jeff, when I’ve never told them my name, and I noticed at the bottom of your garden coming from a complete stranger. And then there’s the woman who smiles and waves at me as though she’s known me for ever. I happen to know where she lives because I’ve seen her sitting in her garden during the summer, but I only noticed her because she smiled and waved at me as though she’d known me for ever.

They must watch me and talk about me, mustn’t they? And that could be seen as a bit creepy, couldn’t it? It has shades of conspiracy about it, like The Stepford Wives and Invasion of the Body Snatchers. How fortunate that I’m not inclined to paranoia, merely curious and a little dumbfounded. But if I disappear from cyberspace for an extended time, do feel free to harbour suspicions.

*  *  *

On a seemingly unconnected note, the keratosis which I had sprayed with liquid nitrogen on Wednesday has grown bigger and darker, so now it looks stupider than it did before the treatment. The same thing happened the last two times I had it done, so there’s nothing to worry about. It should drop off in a week or two.

Ah, but here’s the connection: I expect the locals will have noticed it and gone into urgent discussion while waiting for their children to come out of school.

‘Have you noticed that mark on Jeff’s cheek?’

‘The one that looks like a sycamore seed?’

‘That’s the one.’

‘I have, yes. Weird isn’t it?’

‘Certainly is, and it’s got weirder. It’s bigger and blacker than it was last week.’

‘You don’t say. Do you think he’s got some sort of foreign disease?’

‘What, like leprosy?’

‘Could be, but doesn’t leprosy make your toes fall off?’

‘Well, have you ever seen his toes?’

‘No.’

‘There you are, then. Or it could be he’s one of those alien beans they’re always talking about.’

‘True, but the vicar says it’s more likely to be the Devil’s mark. Or so I’ve heard.’

‘Better keep the kids in, then.’

‘And the cats.’

The burning mill beckons again… And all I want is to be left alone.