A Little Bit of Me

Jottings and Writing, miscellanous misgivings

Too many hotel rooms can cause depression–if you count a room as empty with me inside it, which of course, I do – a l kennedy ‘on bullfighting”

There he goes flitting in and out of the trees.

Making his way along the street,

focussed as if it were a parallel railway track converging into a tunnel.

Suddenly, his eyes flit left and right;

he give a little skip; settles down into the same short gaited semi-trot.

His briefcase is new,

better than the tatty brown one he has worn out over the years.

He reaches the road that bisects his path from the entrance to the hospital.

Left right, left right, right left. A pace forward

and then he is back onto the footpath again.

He seems to have forgotten something.

Left right and then, he is off.

He has spotted a hole in the traffic

and the stream of afternoon tea visitors pouring into the maternity ward.

Clutching their flowers and cards, ready to smile at the baby,

or to murmur disappointments that another day has passed

without an end to gestation.

A departing nurse from the morning shift

smiles at him as he hefts his bag under his arm

and spoils the crease of (is that a new suit?) his coat seam.

He is freshly shaven,

hair is slicked back,

fingernails and undershorts clean.

Will he need to undress today?

His attaché case is empty save for a few religious tracts.

His mind is utterly and completely unravelled.

He is here for his weekly appointment and injection.

That will restore some sanity to his poor soul.


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