Sunday, 10 June 2018

else where? She swears

this is upsetting now, this morning the face in the mirror has swollen, three glasses of wine last night can surely not be the fault. Maybe it is, maybe it was four.
The mirrored face is shaved anyway, shaving cream and razor. The razor three bladed, the sparse growth gone.

The son is in a rage, somebody has turned off his computer set up. Computers are a higher authority for him. Somebody turned off the power, and the whole system is now not functioning as it was. It was a disciplinary move, the answer is almost violence.

This is a Sunday, take it easy. The weather is grey and uncomfortable, the son has not risen far enough.
Seven thirty, and there is no target for the day, just a drift to nowhere.

The son wants to go to the cafe, he wants to talk.
Now it is seven forty.
Time to get dressed.


Take a cleansing shower later.
Look at the instruction sheets and warning notices on a package of fluoxetin. But what of it, antidepressants do not work.
do not take that road
why not?
The fault may well be clsewhere.

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