The Ballads Of Mister Rhodes

“It was morning; through the high window I saw the pure, bright blue sky As it hovered cheerfully over the long roofs of the neighbouring houses. It too seemed full of joy, as if it had special plans, And had put on its finest clothes for the occasion.” - Herman Hesse -  Limber up. I woke up fresh, an hour before my alarm was set for. I had just finished running 5k at a generous incline when it went off. I saw the new year in with an echinacea tea, and a video call with a slightly tipsy Sovi and the adorable stray she rescued. I haven’t written anything in a while and just wondered if the words go down the same as they used to. My desk is a clutter of vitamins, minerals, medical reports, notebooks, half drunk cups of herbal teas, empty electrolyte sachets, coins from four different countries, a pair of sunglasses -lenses down- and one pink gum shield. I wasn’t going to write anything because I’m working on a novel, but I’m not doing so much work on the novel so...

“That's all we have, finally, the words,  and they had better be the right ones.”  - Raymond Carver. I've never fallen asleep knowing that I would wake up to one less mother, and I'll never have to do it again. Three nights ago I dreamt that I was sat at her hospital bed and she had been trying to conceal something from me. Her attention to deception slipped for a second and I noticed that her ears were clotted with blood. She looked apologetically at me. I asked her how long it had been and she told me that she had only ever heard noises and never what they really meant. She looked apologetically at me.  The cleaner knocks at my door, I pour a glass of wine and walk outside for a while. When I return I know what I have to do. It is my craft; my torment and tourniquet.  If I may trouble you to stand -or at least raise your attention to its feet. I'd like to offer a toast. There will be days in our lives when whiskey tastes just like water, ...