light up the sky |
(has been continuing)
Ok, you’re being a bit too cryptic, even
for me.
Sorry.
What’s going on exactly? I have you getting
rained upon in a black hole, somewhere in Eastbourne where you might also be
sipping Rioja watching fireworks over the sands near the bandstand as the 1812
overture was being played and it wasn’t a holiday.
You’re a bit mixed up; the black hole was
inside and the rain was outside as we walked to the bench by the bandstand
which was at night time otherwise the fireworks would have been a
disappointment.
And they weren’t?
Most certainly not, they were brilliant-
though I had just drunk half a bottle of Rioja.
And you said it was twice in a lifetime.
Deathtime, maybe.
Has someone died?
No, but she’s not well.
Who?
My Aunt.
I only have one.
Isn’t she 150?
94; next month.
What happened?
She fell, got tangled up in bed clothes,
lay there for hours, maybe days – no one knows – went into hospital, got sent
to a rehabilitation/monitoring/prison service for a couple of months and they
said she couldn’t go home, no way.
What’s her home like?
A black hole.
Where is she today?
In a home.
I’m confused.
So is she, there’s a room available next to
her’s, I’ll have a word with the matron.
Who’s the matron?
Simone, she runs tea with matron every
Sunday.
I want to go to that!
That’s what I said!
(to be continued)
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