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Rambling Thoughts

Task: An inner monologue


Something just ran down my leg. I hope it’s sweat.


Thank God that song’s finished. Although I’ll probably keep humming the chorus. Bloody Sam Smith whingeing on. An awful Bond theme.


Oh, the news. Is it ten o’clock already? It was pointless rushing, then. I’ve missed it. They’ll carry on without me, I suppose. Just like all those refugees, government ministers and medical discoveries. So much is happening around the world and I’m pretty un-newsworthy.


Now, according to her, there’s no chance of rain. Why am I so wet? Ah. The window’s open. Of course. Is that snow? She mentioned nothing about snow. That could be why I feel so cold.


The shopping’s in the back, but at least there’ll be rush rush to get the milk in the fridge. But I can smell wine. Perhaps one of the bottles is broken. There is glass everywhere, but I think that’s from the windscreen.


Hard to tell.


Can’t quite focus on that, not out of the one eye I’m using. My other eye won’t open. Not sure why. It doesn’t hurt. Which is good. In fact, I feel no pain at all. I strangely haven’t felt this pain-free since I was expecting Evie. Then my body really let me know how old I was getting. I hope Evie’s Nativity went well. I told her: ‘Say your lines slowly and clearly.’ We practised every night before bed. Think I know them just as well as she does.


My tongue feels funny. There’s a taste. Nasty, like grapefruit. Bitter and unpleasant. Never liked grapefruit. Or blue cheese. But what is it? Sort of slimy. Oh, not blood is it?


I’m so tired. It’s such a mess in here and I would love to tidy everything up but maybe I’ll have a short doze. I’m sure if I just dozed for a few minutes I’d feel so much better.


Ah. Sirens. What was that argument about? Do they go nee-nar nee-nar or wee-ooo wee-ooo? Haven’t seen Evie laugh so much as we tried to work it out in the park that day.


Now what is he playing? Oh crap - may as well sing along. ‘So here it is Merry Christmas, everybody’s having fun. Look to the future now, it’s only just begu-u-n…’


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