After daddy died I got to sleep his old bed with my sister. So away from Mam I used the light that he had used to read in bed until I was discovered
They took the light bulb out. So I lay there in the dark with my sister who was fast asleep by then until I got the idea of going on to the landing
Landing was small but there was a light and on the floor there were some oil cloth. It was very cold but like a medieval saint I did not let the suffering of the body deter me from reading my library books although sadly I have no recollection of what they were.
Of course you went to school so you could learn to read but some people some children just want to read too much and it will be very bad for them… they will be living in another world .
Well that was the point I think it was very cold on the landing in the winter and although my mother had had a door put at the bottom of the stairs where they went into the kitchen nevertheless at any moment someone might open that door and see me. I don’t know what the punishment would be I would have been but just being scolded was bad enough. It wasn’t just that you will be a naughty child but you’ll be an evil sinner bound for hell
I wonder if it was simply that I didn’t like to lie in that bed where daddy had died
When I was older I could stay downstairs for longer and read sitting on the sofa which had a wooden seat because the springs had gone and Daddy had made this into a cupboard . Where they really so short of money?b m
Maybe it wasetter sleeping with my mother and my two sisters in my mother’s bed rather than in that bedroom
A child can feel so lonely in a bedroom at night even when there are other people in the house because we are forbidden to get out of bed and to go screaming into someone else’s bedroom
There was so much fear and so much darkness and yet also so much happiness and joy
Stan was wearing his best suit,topped by a denim apron, and wd polishing the big windows with a microfibre cloth ,as he waited breathlessly for his stunning wife
.Mary entered the room wearing a long purple and mauve dress which clung somewhat tightly to the curvaceous contours of her beautifully rounded body.
On her feet she had some smart pewter ballet slippers and in her elegant hand she carried a huge pewter clutch bag which contained some of her many medications.She addressed Stan,
“I think I can leave my handbag behind if I put my mouth spray into my bra.”
“That somehow detracts from the romance of the evening.” Stan pronounced openly.
“Well,you know,I never had a cleavage until lately and I fell I ought to make the most of it.”
“Surely I should be the one make the most of it,” he riposted jocosely.
“Of course you may, my angel,but not in the restaurant,”she answered back sweetly
“I’ll put your spray in my pocket then,shall I?”
Suddenly the doorbell rang.
”Who’s this?”
It was Annie,their next door neighbour.
She was wearing a coral velvet track suit with matching Reeboks and sun hat.
“Hi,I just came in with a little prezzie,”She declaimed.In her hand was a huge box of chocolates.
“Gosh,Mary you look lovely in that beautiful long dress but you’re not
going on your bike,are you?”
“No,we are having a cab,but it’s not come as yet.”
“Well,never mind.I’ll ring 999 and get them to send an emergency ambulance for you!”
Fortunately,as luck would have it the minicab appeared and it was only as they were entering the restaurant that Stan realised he was still wearing his old denim apron.
“Shall I take it off?” he pondered.
On the pro side I will look smarter on the con side I might spill some soup down my front.I wish I’d done more logic at college.
So he kept it on.Mary didn’t seem to notice.She just took him for granted.~
If he stood on his head and sang”Jerusalem” she probably wouldn’t pay any attention.
Then he noticed that Mary was wearing an apron too.It was the same colour as her dress.What a brilliant idea,he thought.
“There may be money in this.” He could start a small business,
“Aprons R You” selling lovely aprons in all colours of the rainbow.
Suddenly he heard noises;he awoke and heard Mary shouting
“How can you go to sleep when you are out with me?”
“Would you prefer me to recite the Periodic Table?” he snapped gently.
“I’d prefer a poem,” she cried…
All right,Petal,I’ll think of one soon.In the meantime would you like a fool?”
“No.I’ve got you,” she responded handsomely.
“I mean for a pudding?”
“Oh,yes please.A Rubik fool would be lovely.It will pass the time.You know I get so bored.”
“Well,I do my best but it’s hard keeping up with you.would you like to read a few truth tables whilst I finish my mea.?”
He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small leather bound book.
“Truth tables and levitation for geniuses,” by Bertha Russell.
“Oh,Stan,this looks interesting .I’ve always wanted to fly like an angel or an owl.”
“It’s never too late to say never.” he responded.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“I don’t know.Just because a sentence is grammatically correct doesn’t imply that it means something.”
“Yes, quite right.And conversely a sentence can mean something even when it’s not grammatically correct.”“Isn’t thinking exciting!”
“Yes,indeed.I was thinking how exciting it will be to go to bed with you.”
“Wow,good grammar and full of meaning.I am yours.I am like a ripe plum ready to drop off the tree.I am a cat ready to mate.I am a song waiting to be sung.”
“Gosh,are metaphors your bete noir?”
“Je ne parle pas Francais.”
“Aimez vous ein Nederlander?”
“Sprechen sie Deutsche?”
Ist sein mutter immer krank?”
Lehitraot, auf weidersehen,au revoir,
Je suis un parallel line
Too old for cold,I stand, now ,against the hedge, Watching the snowflakes in the glare of neon street lights. Darkness has come early,and I think of country uplands and huddled sheep. On Salisbury Plain,shepherds watched their flocks Just as in Bethlehem two thousand years before, And then,exactly when? “Between the wars”,it stopped. Now we know there is no “Between the wars”. And who decided To cull the sheep and shepherds and the space for kindness ? Now that same Plain still exists,but banned And closed to human-kind, For bombs ,not wombs Nor for birth of lamb ,nor gypsy child ,nor Saviour Where would He go today?
I may have mentioned my late husband was having some surgery last summer 2013.Whilst he was waiting [dressed only in pyjamas and dressing gown] he decided to go to the l toilet .He saw a door with two signs so that either sex could use it.He went in,locked the door and made use of the urinal.,which was in the open with no door, then went to wash his hands. Suddenly the door of the cubicle opened and out came a woman of riper years.Instead of looking surprised or worried that she had forgotten to lock the door she came over to him at once. Are you a Christian? she asked loudly Well,I believe in God,he answered dishonestly yet truthfully May I give you a tract? she enquired loudly and urgently If you must,he whispered sorrowfully But she couldn’t find one so she departed…..was she real I wonder? Beware of such shared conveniences as you never know whom you might meet.Maybe it’s a tactic for desperate lonely singletons. She declared she would pray for him.But is it always a good thing to pray for someone if they don’t want it?To me it seems a mite agrgessive. Why not pray for them without telling them? Suppose he had been much younger and more aggressive?He could have attacked her claiming it was shock… lock the outer door in such places,I beg you About these ads.. they are invisible! Occasionally, some of your visitors may see a hippopotamus here and it’s not your fault
Hiding in between two garden shrubs
A little fruiting tree has grown unseen
Now it’s filled with blossom humbly borne
That decorates the patien garden green
I see it with delight from up above
The window gives me visions ,maps of space
I see the blackbirds, hear them sing at dusk
Now all nature finds its proper place
Into a little crack a seed may fall
A tree grows up and breaks grey paving stones
Thus are the mighty broken,scattered, scorned
All they leave are heaps of whitened bone
The humble may be raised without request
The proud are filled with hatred of the rest
I so hated the green plastic mac that my mother made me wear in the rain that after she had opened the door and thrown me into the street I went around the corner and instead of going to church I cried for an hour. When I saw people coming back from Mass I went back into the house and said nothing.
Fortunately I did not wonder whether I’ I was going to go to hell for missing Sunday mass…
Later I heard my mother say to somebody
You have to break a child’s spirit before it is one year old
I think things have changed a little bit since then I certainly hope so
Childhood is not the happiest time of life for many people but I was fortunate that a lot of it was very happy
But this episode with the mac made me feel very angry and afraid and I felt the determination inside me that I will not let people treatment like this when I’m older.. and that I will never say to somebody who’s worried about their appearance or their clothing
The king weren’t get off his horse to look at you
When I was a child I didn’t understand this but now I do it makes me feel angry. Instead you could say to a child I’m very sorry but you don’t have a mac of your own and it’s raining very hard so I would like you to wear my Mac even though it’s too big for you don’t worry people won’t be looking at you in the rain and you can take it off when you get to the church
I don’t understand the notion that children are like wild horses that have to be tamed into submission or otherwise they will do everyone severe harm. Children may have their faults I don’t believe they are possessed by the devil and that the parents have to beat the devil out of them in fact it could be the opposite that the
beating is what makes the child feel that the devil is inside when it’s their own hatred and anguish
It was as if we were plants growing in the soil of the street so deeply rooted did we feel in our home.
Sometimes my mother would bake bread and I have a feeling that before we had the bath taken out of the kitchen that she used to use the oven in the side of the fire in the front room to bake the bread
What a wonderful smell there was when we came home from school . My mother was a teacher but she had different holidays sometimes and that’s probably why she was making the bread.
Once her sister took us out into the country into a wonderful place with a river I think it was called Turton Brook
Along the banks were masses of bluebells. I had never seen them before and it was almost as good as the first time I saw lake Windermere.
We walked through the woods by the brook which was actually a small river until he came back to the road after about three miles and it seemed rather magical that there was a Catholic church there and I think we might have got inside and said a prayer
I didn’t know what religion was then I just believed whatever my mother and father believed and my school teachers.
But knowing that Jesus died for our sins had a bad effect on me because when my father died when I was eight years old I thought that he must have died to atone for my sins and it had a permanent effect on me fortunately after 60 years it began to abate.
When we got back home mum had made some potato cakes. How delicious they are covered in butter when they have just come out of the oven If only my mother was here now, I would be well pleased.
So as well as the street itself and the local park we began to build up a little collection of beautiful places that we went to at the weekend up on the moors or by this river any quiet place where there were no cotton mills
Later on when my nephew is were growing up I think they craved for towns and nightclubs and cities but we craved for the countryside
The purple heather and in some places there were berries+(they were rather like bilberries) called whinberries.
There were sheep on the lower slopes that’s where we saw lambs for the first time.
Up on the moors are walking through the Riverside to a country village that was a place of transformation or possibly it might have even been what the famous child psychoanalyst Dr Winnicott called a transitional space. It was not an interior space it was not an exterior space it was somewhere in the space of an illusion but a necessary illusion because only in such a space could 0children play and later adults could create
I admire this man very much because he made play the most important thing in life and as I played with my mother’s button collection on the kitchen table I think i began to develop my feeling for mathematics although I had no notion of it at that time I could only count I didn’t even know what a negative number might be nor do most of the human race and it doesn’t seem to do them much harm
I think it’s a writer walking in a place like the ones I have described above could be the place where your ideas come freshly to mind.
New ideas born in a new place neither here nor there
Because we had to light a big fire to heat the water although I didn’t know that at the time.
Everything was as it was.
We used to play rounders in the middle of the road or the girls would play with skipping ropes.
The boys went to the park and tortured frogs
That’s how it all begins.
I loved our street and the cobbles and the ice cream man’s horse.
But underneath there’s always an element of fear
Lying in bed, I was afraid of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs
Why was I afraid when the stairs came up from the kitchen where my mother might be making a cup of tea.
We don’t like to think about the vulnerability of children even when they are not being abused.
By today’s standards we probably were being abused
Instead they are teased like boys who were told, don’t cry you’re a big boy, you’re two years old.
I remember the queen’s coronation in 1953
We had a party with jelly and ice cream at tables down the middle of the road
I didn’t really understand why the Queen matters because we lived a hundred and eighty miles away from London and I thought everything important happened in our town and nowhere else.
I do remember Harold Macmillan saying ,you have never had it so good
I was totally puzzled by his statement what was it we’d never had so good?
Although I did start reading the times when I was 10.
For the previous 2 years I had read The Guardian until one day I asked my motherat what was rape
She never replied but we changed our daily paper I can’t believe I was reading the times then it’s in ludicrous
There is something that wasn’t talked about much called print hunger where you will read anything even the print on the soap powder box rather than just gaze around like you do when you’re small
What is so frighteningabout being without something to read?
Is there anything we don’t want to read yes the school textbooks
In our street the top half was covered in tarmac and the bottom half was covered in cobbles
It was because it was the meeting of two different parishes with different financial regulations or should I say different priorities?
Some of the men prefer cobbles, others say we must move with the times the motor car is coming we’ve got to get the roads ready for it
I didn’t like it because I like the little weeds that grew between the cobbles and the bits of tar that you can play with in the summer
There was no contest in my mind but they didn’t consult me fortunately
I think cobbles were better for the horses except when they were wet
No doubt I would have objected to cobbles in a previous era
I suppose I prefer the earth the natural world to the world of pavements and cars.
Thank goodness there were no motorways in the 1950s
We were content with our outdoor toilets and our washes at the kitchen sink.
Partly because we knew nothing else but that and what your mother and father did that was right wasn’t it?
Eh bien, mon I Q n’a que 65 ans et pourtant j’ai un diplôme de maths
Vous ne pouvez pas les acheter. C’est ce qu’ils disent tous Je suis un crétin, vous êtes des crétins, ils sont des crétins Et moi? Tu es un imbécile.
Je desire un moron pour mon lit~je suis enchante par les imbeciles comme moi Je ne suis même pas français Je ne regrette pas mon oncle est un topologie daemon.Quelque chose desirez vous? Pourquoi avez-vous cette lettre dans votre main? C’est un refernce de mon tuteur. “Ce garçon est tellement stupide qu’il ne peut même pas épeler Feck et il n’a jamais entendu parler de Sodome et Gomorrhe. Pourkwa Sod em and Gomorrow? Je suis auntie bbc supernatural Je ne sais pas mais je suis un analyst de classi sequel comme epsilon delta et Leib Knits sweaters,Ou est Kant? Kant est mort! Oh,non,non, je suis finnish, I can’t go on like this. I am Dutch. Double? Treble! Kant aime Leipzig.Je t’aim frogs.Ma mere aime le chat et mon pere aimes ma meres.J’ai trois meres Traumas? O h Freud again
Doctor can I have some therapy
I can’t like all these others whom I see.
I need to move to better contexts soon
Gee, I sense there is impending doom
Well, how much does it cost, what’s the full fee?
Can you cure me if I work with you?
Will I need to dream in colour now
Or can we keep it sepia somehow?
I just say whatever comes to me
Free associations cause us glee
I have been in therapy before.
That resulted in the last World War
I still can’t like the others but Freud said
Misery’s not quite madness when you’re dead.
Mary was in her bedroom which once had been a study.There were books every where all randomly arranged
Shall I toss away “Functional Analysis “by Riesz-Nagy?I can’t remember it but it’s a classic text.She looked at her other books and found three rhyming dictionaries…. and Strunk’s guide to style.
Is American style the same as English ? she asked herself.I’d better read that.
When she opened her desk drawers hoping to find a ring she had lost she was thunderstruck by how dirty the white bases were.She sat there on her folding chair musing on this and wondering about Purity and Danger by Mary Douglas.
A whole jar of nail scissors and pens stood ,previously unnoticed, by the window.So that’s where they went,Mary thought.Things seem to appear and disappear disconcertingly at random.Perhaps she had never achieved what is called object constancy by Freudians which must not be confused with objecting to constancy.That is something quite different. that some men like to do
Mary had some clear polythene bags by her and Emile watched as he hid inside the open wardrobe under Mary’s dresses and cardigans.She found some shoes under her desk so put then into a green bag; the socks she collected in a white one and the pens and art stuff went into a box.
What chaos there was in the room with face cream and books on the bed and boxes of tissues and cotton wool balls strewn about.
Emile came out of the wardrobe stretching and yawning as only tom cats can
Shall I ring 999 , you look tired, he said mellifluously.
Oh,how kind, she responded politely in her delightful way
Soon Dave the transvestite paramedic appeared wearing a maxidress from Marks and Spencers’
Does that need ironing,~Mary asked him
No, it drip dries really well, he answered gracefully
I wonder if I should buy one,she muttered cautiously
If you go to your GP you might find you can get one on prescription
Do you think so? I’ve never heard of that before,she responded
Well, you could say it will cure your depression and grief from losing your dear old man
He will say that no double blind experiments have been done to prove dresses help women to feel better. when bereaved she told Dave cautiously
How about a double bind operation,Dave asked scientifically
What do you mean? Mary said philosophically
We tie ourselves together with string and then kiss and hug and see how it goes… one never knows when old
Well I don’t see why we need string.Someone might think we are a parcel and post us to China or even North Korea.
How about Israel?
Why do you think we’d end up there?
They have some great museums.And we could Wail at the Wall.
I could do with a good Wail,Mary replied as tears ran down her pink and cream cheeks.But I am unsure if one wails there out of grief or is it something more? Like sorrow about the Temple being destroyed.Why do they not get over it?
Well it’s rather like England and the Tudors… all those films and books as if Henry 8 th deserved such fame for ever
I’d prefer the Temple to him, said Mary fastidiously.That was a place of worship and beauty
I’d love to see the Temple.If only we could go back in time,Dave informed her.But the main point is Mary I love you so I must leave your bedroom before I die of repressed desire and lack of your tender touch
I am sorry Dave,I never knew you felt that way about me,Mary told him .Perhaps we should go to the kitchen and make some nice hot tea.And I just bought some biscuits from Marks and Spencers which are much better than any others I’ve had
So they sat at the pine table drinking Ceylon tea and eating custard creams as they watched the sun through the Acer next door.Why the neighbours had a laptop hanging from a tree nobody knew.Was it to make themselves seem superior?Was it going to be connected to the electricity so it would be like a Xmas decoration?Time will tell.Or it may fall off and kill some slugs and snails… isn’t life interesting
Weŕe born into a culture, is there choice?
Ridiculous to imagine a blank slate
We learn to speak from a parental voice
We could not be conceived as was Jesus
When by some magic,Mary took the bait
Weŕe born into a culture without choice
Who can live with all the unmeant noise?
What to hear and what eradicate?
We learn to speak from a beloved voice
Freely once the Bedouin camels grazed
Their black tents in the desert now erased
We´ŕe born into new cultures, whose the choice?
Once each hamlet had its different ways
Now multinationals thrust on us bad taste
We learn to speak but whose is this new voice?
Grey fog freezes, noone knows the way
Looking round for God, we feel dismay
We´ŕe born into a culture of whose choice?
We learn to speak by mimicking and grace
In an information culture, evocation is more important than ; explicit saying counts against us. People need to be well into believing being educated is more than information: the incoherencies what they’re saying, the musicality of people’s voices and intonations; would get more from them. Effectively, psychoanalysis is something other, not the coherences; it listens for words that are saying more It’s got something to do with being; it’s a form of listening, not distracted by incoherence but evoked by it. Because it hears what’s underneath Within or hiding. Wanting to be found But unable to get the words
Between you and me, we ought to be able to get this lady pregnant
She is numb from her toes down.
By the time he was admitted, his rapid heart had stopped and he was feeling better.
• Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left side for over a year.
• On the second day the knee was better and on the third day it had completely disappeared.
• She has had no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night.
The patient has been depressed ever since she began seeing me in 1983.
• Patient was released to outpatient department without dressing.
0I have suggested that he loosen his pants before standing and then, when he stands with the help of his wife, they should fall to the floor.
• The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to be depressed.
• Discharge status: Alive but without permission.
• Healthy appearing decrepit 69 year-old male, mentally alert but forgetful.
• The patient refused an autopsy.
• The patient has no past history of suicides.
• Patient has left his white blood cells at another hospital.
• The patient’s past medical history has been remarkably insignificant with only a 40 pound weight gain in the past three days.
• She slipped on the ice and apparently her legs went in separate directions in early December.
• The patient experienced sudden onset of severe shortness of breath with a picture of acute pulmonary oedema at home while having sex, which gradually deterioratein the emergency room.
• The patient had waffles for breakfast and anorexia for lunch.
• The patient was in his usual state of good health until his aeroplane ran out of gas and crashed.
• When she fainted, her eyes rolled around the room but there were no animals present in the waiting room
Mary woke up at 7:00 to her surprise Her cat Emile was lying by her side with his head on the pillow
Gentle stroking his soft relaxed body
She said to him you are not a human being you know Emile. If your head is at the pillow your body is not underneath the duvet.
Oh that’s alright mother he replied; with my Fur on I don’t need to be underneath the duvet. To be honest I’m frightened about slipping down the bed and suffocating
That’s not like you Mary murmured. You are still quite young so you will be able to push yourself up with your legs.
I know such fears are totally irrational. But the fear seems to be real Perhaps I’m afraid of losing myself in you you he said thoughtfully
Oh that’s stuff about psychology it’s not the pathway I wish to follow today.
Why don’t we have some good hot tea. They went downstairs to the kitchen and Mary put the kettle on and put the teapot ready to use when suddenly there was a knock on the front door.
I’m not even dressed yet Mary cried. Although my night dress does look like a frock
Yes it does said Emile. In fact it was better than most of your frocks. Open the door quick quick.
When she opened the door she saw a well dressed artistic looking man.
Hello he said I’m your date for today.
My date for today what are you talking about?
Well I joined this dating agency for older people and they gave me your name and address saying you were looking for another husband.
Well that strange I said Mary because I’ve never joined any agency. I wonder if if you’re looking for Annie my next door neighbour??
No I’ve definitely got the name Mary on my phone they sent me the email last night.
Well why don’t you come into the kitchen and I will make you some tea because you look tired and hot
We all went into the kitchen and found the kettle was boiling. Then Mary said to the man what you would like to drink?
I would like to NESCAFÉ blend 37 he said nervously.
That’s good because I have just bought some she told him although I don’t drink coffee myself but the cat likes it. My cat is called Emile :come and say hello.
Hello sir you devil. What is your name may I know?
Well I’m not certain he cried. Just call me Simon.
How old are you Simon. You are grown up you should know your own name by now.
Well do you see, I used to belong to a religious order and when I was older I was given the name Simon but it’s not the name that’s my parents gave me when I was born. That name is John but not many people know that now.
Did you join a dating site because you don’t know how to get a new woman in your life?
Yes you have guessed correctly I have no idea how I can meet interesting women.
Do you mean you know how to beat boring women?
Be precise I have no idea how to meet any women at all having spent 20 years in the monastery. Of course I used to have some nuns in the parish who we used to meet but it’s not quite the same is it?
Well said Mary how fascinating. Do you think God guided you to my door because I am a widow! I have been wondering whether to look for another man but since I am very clever some men are afraid of me.
They went into the living room and sat down on the sofa while they drank the coffee!
Simon very coolly looked at Mary’s pictures on the wall. I do like your Picasso prints he said
Would you like to come with me for a walk in the woods he continued.
That sounds delightful said Mary.
But I haven’t got dressed yet and do you remember that I have never seen you before so I would like you to bring two references from someone and notable in the area and I will then decide whether I want to go anywhere with you or not.
That’s not very friendly said Simon in a sulky manner
Well you have a strange story. I did not join a dating agency so I don’t know where you got my address from and if I was your sister you will not want me to go out with a man I’ve never met before I would you?
Well I suppose you are right. I am going to church anyway this morning so I will speak to the parish priest and ask him he will give me a reference
Yes I believe I have met that priest at a bring and by sale in the church hall. Yes you speak to him and then if he is willing to give you a reference we can have a date
Would you not prefer prunes the little cat cried.
No thank you said Simon. Thank you for offering that was very generous of you!
You are welcome cried Emile have you run up the stairs I’m going back to bed he shouted to Mary?
But Mary did not hear him because she was wrapped in thoughts in the kitchen wondering how this man has got her name and address. I think it must be Annie she though to herself because she is very clever at picking up men. And she thinks that it would be good for me to get married again or even just go to bed with somebody. Emile is not really enough company for me although he is very charming. If I get another husband then Emile may find a wife and start a family it will be lovely to have some kittens in the house again.
I ate an apple with some quiche lorraine Tomorrow I shall eat the same again Boredom or monotony is bad I’m sorry but I’m feeling very sad
I like chocolate,I like double cream I’ll soon get diabetes, intervene Get the doctor here and I will weep My feelings like the underground run deep
I threw away the beef and ate the cheese Don’t blame me,I never aim to please Of course I am a liar but just when? That’s the koan, soon we will be Zen
We need skin or we would fall apart I don’t want to see Dom Cummings’ heart I never liked his manners and his dress Thank you,Father,now I can confess
Boundaries are also contact zones Think like this and you will write a poem Love like mine is precious do not spill The precious blood, the Body on the Hill
Stroking other people is so nice I pretend that I have seen a thousand lice Then I hope that they will all stroke me If only it were summer they might see
My husband brushed my hair when it was long Now he’s dead I cut it off with prongs
I want him to come back but noone can
Like Catholic sex it’s sinful so it’s banned
He used to make the dinner every day Now he’s left me I shall have to pray Does God expect me to survive on grass As a meal after we go to Mass?
I gave him flasks of tea to drink in bed I read the Emile stories,Satan fled When he smiled and nodded then I wept Why did noone help me pass the test?
I washed his clothes as often as I could 8 pyjamas, hankies ,was it good? In the end he wore a dressing gown It has coloured spots on and it’s brown
Stan was wearing his best suit,topped by a denim apron, and wd polishing the big windows with a microfibre cloth ,as he waited breathlessly for his stunning wife
