hello.

hello.

tell me something

what about?

anything. just tell me something about yourself. and then I will tell you something.

okay. when I was seven years old my parents took me to my very first Mcdonalds restaurant. it was in dublin. ireland. I sat there with a strawberry milkshake in one hand and hot apple pie in the other. my mother and father were smiling. they were still happy then. I can remember looking out of the window and seeing a man shouting at a woman. his arms full of anger. the woman full of fear. and then he hit her. hard in the face. the woman screamed and fell to the floor. over and over again he hit her. over and over again she screamed for help. people seemed to pass them by in slow motion. but no one stopped to help. and so I turned away. looked at my mother and father. still smiling. and continued to drink my strawberry milkshake. it has haunted me all of my life. I very rarely enter a Mcdonalds restaurant now.

oh that is a beautiful thing to tell me.

it is?

yes. it is. I think i might cry.

please don't cry.

why do people just walk by?

fear.

yes. fear.

anyway. now it is your turn. tell me something

I am worried about the blackbird. I think it might die soon. I've fed it milk and bread and played it Radiohead and The Little Minuetto from Don Giovanni for days now but still it sits motionless in the cardboard box on my kitchen table next to my computer. blinking in slow motion.

a blackbird?

yes. I found it a couple of days ago sitting by my back door. at first I thought it was dead. mulled to death by a tame cat. but then it blinked. and so I wrapped it in a polka dot skirt I haven't felt able to wear in a couple of years and brought it inside. but it hasn't moved. I think it will die soon.

maybe it just needs a safe place to breathe for awhile?

maybe. I will take it to the vets in the morning. I tried to book an appointment yesterday but the surgery was full. it's that time of year. lots of things die during the month of december.

I am sure it will be fine.

I hope so. i am also thinking about memory encoding.

memory what?

memory encoding: the process of converting sensations into memories.

cool. do you think sometimes you convert a sensation into a memory, store it for awhile, then convert the memory back into a sensation?

maybe.

like nightmares and bleached polariods and damaged luggage left at the lost and found in your head.

maybe. why do you ask?

no reason. so why don't you feel able to wear the polka dot dress anymore?

it reminds me of the day when everything changed.


to be continued.......