Tuesday, 15 September 2009

Animal Farm.

He doesn't like it when I talk about the concrete room.

Instead I got a song and a kiss and I was held and I was asked if I was okay and what was wrong and it was exhaustion and heat and headaches and thinking about The Future and all the usual things that grow from a gently lapping surf into a fucking tsunami in the space of a few hours.

Maybe you should wall up the room. Maybe he's right.

Maybe it's just a thing and you should leave it alone, Ben.

I try to. Just...the look on your face, princess.

But the room is closed, mostly, when Ben is home. I get a reprieve from the ghosts. A break from the fear and someone big and strong to take away the cow I had yesterday. Cows are heavy. They take up lots of space. Way more than one single small princess with her very full head and her boys around her.

Wonder what I have to conjure to get PJ to rematerialize.

Probably a goat.

We like goats.

And zombies.

I'm a zombie today. But it could be worse.

I could be a goat.

Or a cow.

But not a ghost.