Bad contact

This head is full of packing material other than the usual grey matter. Inert trimmings of soft waste fill that space between the ears, from the high pitched hiss on the right covering all subtle tones to the clear and quiet left. A false signal, unheard by anyone but the hearer, A sore throat completes the picture.
There is the sound of alarm clocks, or mobile phones.
The son has a klaxon sound, rhythmically  sounding until he shuts it up.

Then the wife gets up, and the son.

Pretend to sleep-  a few minutes more.
Then all are away, in the kitchen.
Bathroom, toilet, do what is possible and necessary.

return, all are in bed again.

What?

Well, it is raining, therefore there is no point in going into the flea market today.
Wet second hand goods.

ugh.

so back to bed.

At nine the postman rings.
Twice.

A small package of electric lamps for the french light fitting in the sitting room.
B22 fittings.

Install.
One works, the other does not.
Bad contact.

The son looks and advises to try another bulb.
Bad contact.

more small jobs for the weekend.

Write this account, having made fresh coffee and alll.


And what is that silly feeling between the ears?