When I release the control on a tape measure or retractable dog lead and the cord or metal tongue slams itself back into its sheath with mortal velocity, when I get a real flow going while slicing vegetables and the knife doesn’t leave the cutting board, when I clean the windows with old newspaper and with each swipe I soften its crinkles to mush while staring at the tree outside which begins to seem brighter, when I say a brief prayer for someone running for the bus, when I call my little brother but hang up before he can finish saying ‘hello’ and then repeat this several times, cackling, until he begins to decline my calls, when I hear my neighbour switch his light off at the end of the day, when I close the window so I cannot hear my neighbour’s conversation, when I blow a kiss as a goodbye to my friend and ask myself where I picked up that awful habit, when I plunge a fresh pot of coffee, when I smile at a child who does not smile back, when I serve a bowl of pasta, when I take the first bite, when I begin to resent the lilies in the vase because they reek of piss.
A Personal Anthology 