Thursday, 2 April 2015

Echo in the wells.

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence
This morning I came down to a Mexican standoff. Batman and Caleb in my kitchen staring each other down, face to face, words fired, wounds filled with letter-shrapnel, and PJ is playing Simon & Garfunkel which made the whole mess all the more absurd.

They both turned as I reached the bottom steps with my feverish face and hair sticking up, in soaking wet pajamas. Loch made me come down for food (orders via phone, he is working today) and then I'm to go right straight back to bed. I need my antibiotic for the morning and Daniel promised to come up and snuggle. PJ said maybe and Sam said he would be up straightaway after work.

But these two, well, they're not invited.

They don't even live here, though by virtue of circumstance, good fortune, bad luck and ridiculous timing they afforded me this life, though both alternately claim credit and refuse to acknowledge their investment at all. It's kind of dumb and I'm too sick to deal with it today so PJ hands me a plate with a blueberry muffin all buttered but cold the way I like it and a half-cup of black tea. I take it and walk right between them to sit at the island right in the middle because that's my seat. I'm almost too weak to climb up on the stool but I manage and I sit and eat quietly while everyone stares at me. When I'm finished I give PJ my dishes and he kisses my forehead and I turn and go back upstairs without a word.

I don't care why they're arguing, as long as it doesn't wake me up.

I must be sicker than I thought.