A strange little lady in a hat that said GO, seemingly overwhelmed by the need to share her life with someone, turned to me and began our impromptu exchange with ‘the roof of my house fell in and it is mess everywhere’ and I thought for a split second of the time I spent working in a school and how children would tell me about their lives with a lack of social lead up that always left me pleasantly surprised and, admittedly, relieved, because I often find the pleasantries of adulthood taxing, so I turned to her and said ‘was it mould or something? damp?’ and she said she didn’t know but it was awful, dust everywhere, so probably not mould, and even her dog is sick now, ‘can you imagine I have to wear a mask at home? so much dust. the dog sniffles, she is…’ and then she gave me a stellar impression of the dog and I said something consoling and then she said ‘so that is why I have this’ and then pointed to the inner corner of her right eye, which was bloodshot, presumably irritated by the dust, and I said ‘I see, that’s terrible’ and she nodded and the exchange was finished, having entered my life with neither a beginning nor really an end, so it’s spilled into the rest of my life and I keep telling people about it and each time someone laughs about it I feel closer to having resolved its presence in my life
First told to me on February 27, 2024 in Shepherd’s Bush, London
A Personal Anthology 