It’s hard to say when the depression began. It just appeared one winter’s morning like an unexpected lunatic boarding your bus. And though you held your breath and tried not to stare as the lunatic made his way down the aisle with his carrier bags and Sony Walkman on full flipping blare, deep in your heart you just knew - you just knew - a matter of course, that he’d sit next to you. And so you hold on tightly and gasp for air, as you take the ride of your life with a grinning lunatic on the seat next to you.
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Bookmark One
I am a bookmark. On June 5th Andre made me. He said I was the bestest bookmark he had ever made and my 'funny face' makes him roar with laughter.
Yesterday, I spotted Andre making a new bookmark. I asked him why, if I am the bestest bookmark he has ever made, would he feel the need to make another?
Andre said he wasn't making another bookmark, he was just doing a drawing and that I am being paranoid and my needy ways are beginning to get him down. I am not the bookmark I used to be. I have changed.
I have not changed! It is you that has changed! I said. Just because I haven't actually got a heart or a brain, it doesn't mean I'm stupid. I can still feel things! And I know you are planning to replace me with another!
Well that was it, Andre just picked me up and threw me in the bin - where I still am now - he said that if I didn't calm down he 'bloody well would' make another bookmark, and then he stormed out of the bedroom and is now sitting downstairs, in the kitchen, doing God knows what?
'Drawing' he'll no doubt say.
But I know better, the writing is on the wall for me - soon I shall be replace by a much thinner bookmark. A sexy streamlined strip of blandness. You just see if I'm wrong. You just see.
