Sunday, 31 July 2011

Peace came and Hope
for the folks of the enduring creek. Less time to wait, they figured if they took the mooring after all. Doing everything they could to avert the  problem, rush it all out and be back in town making trays of biscuits for the hungry masses. Until someone worked that out for me. Her, she doesn't want to be around you anymore, but is tempted to all the same to watch when things go wrong. She thinks it will anoy you. Bloody sex! With my boyfriend. I've known him longer and then two kiddies too. Who is going to pay for all that? She with her mind for numbers and financial gain, going around telling all and sundry that her ladyship is in fact a corporate giant no less. As if everything gets manufactured out of her arse. Come on Toby me laddy, hey man, you work in the media, tell the nosy parkers to run off and give the girl a bit of time with her old mum so she can wear the clothes the right way for once. That means nothing to her does it? No. You are going round in circles again. Toby is my little boy cousin. He is not supposed to grow up and my grandparents certainly were not supposed to die ten years after retiring to one of the most beautiful and quiet places in the country. Oh dear. Yes oh dear!

Long mornings at Hill House perusing the press. Everyone there for me. I put on Sunday clothes everyday now. No one talks about the cost, all except the old crowd and then it is only to prove their stupid point. How can he have been so beastly to me over that girl. i am not that sort of person who can just sit and take it and even Aunt Lucy has been called on for advice. I don't need poison or shots I need a good professor to take me in hand. Ooh so nice!

A Blue sports car passed that way that day and then she fell, she altered into a little dullish broken person who gets in the way of your massive skip full of tears and greed. The water still softly lapping around and the wading birds are off. More music further South. Princesses in their holiday cotton and sewn by the dusty dark queen of pub Saturday memories. The "Brown" stoked into their chests over and over and never a real hangover. Never a real fly in the ointment.

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