enough, enough;

May 02, 2003 14:03


sitting up here at work, talking to jane about old films. (she made me a cup-a-soup, and didn't crease or stutter when i told her that my appointment next tuesday is at chorlton house, the manchester mental health hq.) outside, there's a car alarm, or maybe it's the reverse signal on one of the diggers on the construction site, which is sounding a six-note cadence; simple and lovely and musical. like something i'd have played on the glockenspiel when i was six years old.

{{ when i was six years old, i was in miss massey's class. miss massey was wonderful; she was also the school pianist, a stern, fiery redhead who must have been in her early fifties. she liked me for my innate musicality and often gave me leeway with the instruments; however, she didn't ever hesitate to pull me up when i took liberties with her affections. i loved miss massey, perhaps more than i loved meek, mild mrs. kenyon or the blunt, rough-edged reluctance of mrs. mcgowan. i wonder why she never married. i wonder what became of her. }}

it is raining, still. i was soaked through this morning walking through chorlton park: wet pink-and-white blossoms on the pathway; the dormant funfair with its tantalising suggestion of kitschy bright-lights and dizzying high-speed everything. i am wearing a bright pink shirt that i found in oxfam originals for £7. i am trying to hold everything together. if there must be cracks, let them be imperceptible. i am waiting for the cloud to break.
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