DAILY PROMPT – “BRICK”
So here I am. In my little country idyll after escaping the Smoke and all it’s stresses, worries and concerns. Plus my notoriety as the local BPD nutter in some circles.
I am, to all intents and purposes, safe. People are for the most part friendly, normal, and no one knows my dark secret.
Or do they?
Very little happens around here and I now know that any newcomers are the talk of the village when they first move in, and a great source of curiosity. At least 3 pensioners knocked on my door within 72 hours of my arrival, scaring the shit out of my already traumatised cats (I’ve dubbed them the White Watchers – the pensioners, not the cats), and like their namesake’s, they don’t wait to be invited in. I know I’m sounding very ‘London’ here (i.e. snotty), but I was in the Capital on and off for over 20 years, so I’m used to people that either mind their own business and/or don’t give a fuck about your shit, so the need for privacy is a hard thing to break, especially when you have stuff to hide.
Indeed one of these ladies wandered up to my desk and craned her neck to have a good old look at the paperwork strewn across it (some of which just happened to be from the NHS – great…), so I’ve taken to ducking every time I see a greying mop pass by the window and have nightmares about my secret being out, and a gang of them heading up my path with a Wicker Man on bonfire night, so my determination to be more sociable in order to appear ‘normal’ was challenged within a very short period indeed.
Also, I’m still something of a hermit, and despite the one neighbour I’ve befriended urging me to get out and about more in the community, I still find small talk deeply boring and energy sapping especially when everyone is so damned, well, normal…I miss my London freaks, I mean, friends.
So like the song goes, ‘Everywhere you go, you always take the weather with you’. I’m still me, I haven’t been cured overnight from moving north of Watford Gap, and, of course, my old worries have been replaced by new ones. And some old ones came back. And on those dark nights and days of the soul, I still hibernate, only now, it’s more noticeable because the people around me have fuck all else to notice or talk about.
It could all be my imagination of course as I was off my meds at the time…
Plus, my property is so exposed. People can see in, which I’m not feeling, so I’m pricing up garden walls, blinds, gates and electric fences (just joking about the last one – I think) as we speak, which will only enhance my reputation as a cold ass London biatch even more.
Cos these people may be ever so nice, but all in all, they’re just a-nother brick in my wall.
Because, try as I might to leave it, that thing was never going to stay in south London.
Cos it’s with me. Wherever I go.
But it’s meant to be a new start?
Perhaps I’ll replace the wall and fences with trellis and blinds which will let the light it. Oh and maybe take the barbed wire off back order.
For now, anyway…