Baroque Nights

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You look so calm. She says.

Ohm. Bloody Ohm. I purse my lips.

You could do with some housekeeping too. She continues, as she enters Nina’s apartment and scrutinizes every dusty corner in sight.

So many hairs around. Stained floor.

They’re just back from the nursing home, where the undertakers collected Dad’s stiff remains – ready for embalming.

What a dirty home. And yet you look so calm. Pour me a glass of red, if you don’t mind?

I don’t have any red. Vodka and coke only, in case you care for a nightcap.

That’ll do too.

She lights up a cigarette. Draws a stuffed cat on a post-it pad lying around.

I purse my lips. I slowly, reluctantly, inhale the smoke. I am a calm person. Ohm, bloody ohm.

Yes, you should hoover around, some tidying up around the shelf area could help too. May get rid of this stuffy baroque feeling as you enter, you know?

I am calm, bloody calm.

Yet don’t let me tamper with your stuffed cat.

I am a dog person too, just in case you don’t know.

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The Author

Woman. Floaty. Attached. Dettached. Sudden. Note-scribbler. Citizen of the world. Travelling to the moon and back.

1 Comment

  1. This one’s good, really funny!!!!
    I don’t care for vodka and coke though.

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