2005

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We adjourned to the back of the car and sumo wrestled into an
uncomfortably exciting position across the leather. The thin straps of Carol’s
silk dress fell away and I circled her white orbs with hot lips and poetic
sighs, while she quietly inspected my credentials with a languid, vermilion
tipped hand. Patiently, I wandered along the perfumed curves of her
trunk, until her legs divided around me and my tongue licked rapturously
along the lacy top of her right stocking. With a husky voice she gasped,
“Please…..please…..
“Bang!”
“Wake up, you lazy pig!” she screamed from the kitchen.
I would probably have woken up anyway because the neighbours had left
their halogen security light trained on our bedroom window again, like a
Colditz searchlight probing around for unauthorised activity across the
compound. There was certainly a din going on downstairs, and this turned
out to be a dropped bowl of corn flakes on the lounge carpet, followed
by loud recriminations and protracted sobbing. I hated great shows of
emotion, and yet this seemed to be the primary method of communication
in our house, as people swung freely from delirious mirth to cold silence
without a second thought, or probably a first.
“Will you please eat your breakfast!” my wife implored.
“It’s my turn on the piano!” my youngest answered.
“….grandmother strangled in her own home…” contributed the man on
T.V.
“Where’s Dad?” said my eldest, followed by the sound of scampering
footsteps coming up the stairs, and what sounded like a mumbled insult
from my spouse in the background.
“Crash!” went the door as it bounced off the wall, and I received a loving
hug, followed by a garrulous report of current domestic disputes downstairs.
“Okay petal, I’ll be down in a minute” I said, trying to gather my wits
together, as my sinuses tightened their hold on my forehead, and my
rumbling bowels notified me of their overnight load. With little option, I
swung my spindly legs over the side of the bed, inadvertently broke wind,
and spotted the old ‘Triang’ toy crane sat on top of the wardrobe; its
black bucket hanging over the side like a man on the gallows.
Yawn, belch, fart.