I watch the cheating drama of Australia's 'Married at first sight' with envy of the sunny clime. A surreal 'Chinese Monkey King' on iPlayer draws my laughter but ‘Taskmaster' is King.
Daily walks alone to rage against betrayal by my father. I have no time for guilt or for his grievances from so long ago. He will never let go of his sense of injustice and trying to evoke a response from me.
I have been searching, but have never found a home. Chasing for belonging. I sniff the air for you. I am wayward - a wild woman, I cannot cure what lies beneath my own skin, but I can cure you with nature’s remedies.
You gave me just a season of gifts. Sci-Fi books, and world music CD’s in so many languages - all singing about love. Silver jewellery with semi-precious stones, gave me the moon and the stars. And time, precious time, with laughter - the colour of sunshine yellow, that you spent with me. Then you disappeared.
I once told another you that my favourite colour was purple. The other you gave me a tiny posy of violets on my birthday. They meant loyalty and faithfulness, I yawned. I betrayed you in a long-grassed French field with one of my secret lovers, under the holy colour of summer, the vast blue sky. I fled from the turgid molasses of your sad brown eyes and the disappointed grimace of your small pursed mouth.
Doctor Who tracked me here over time and space; my breathing quickens. Had you tasted my tamed magic on the cold breeze? I feel danger flashing in the blood being taken from my arm at the hospital and in the flaring red of autumn leaves outside my window.
Days passed. Days halted. Days wasted.
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