Oh, you are ruthlessly selfish. Created in a bank: a banker with faux labour liberal attitude hiding a pair of opaque black obsidian wasp-like eyes taking all in and returning no quarter. She would turn on all in her head long spreading misery. Miser ‘finger less’ gloves, broken nailed and scratching palm greed. Not liberal. Fascist. I wouldn’t trust her ever. Mother sits there in her shabby seem-stress giving lower class tarnished openness. When all that happens is you get taken for a ride. Never again. You produced a classic broken loveless parental embrace as your offspring span away in to self-destruction and here you are speaking in middle classed riddles. Begone thief.
‘X’ marks the spot of the crossed conversation. Women talking over/under the tones of their men booming loud voices. I now understand why the sexes speak within differing frequencies. So we can speak simultaneously and annoy everyone else trying to enjoy a quiet Sunday morning. Two women with banal middle class North Leeds accents and two men blasting spittle and nasally Irish and Lancashire. Bloody Rugger. Bloody middle class accents and here come the waxed jacket landed gentry type. A inadequately posh type gaping wide teeth and at the brow with tweed cap at jaunty angle and welly-bobs. I must escape.I live in a landscape of faux-dom.
Freedom is the lie we all believe in our rigid clawed hands and blank straying eyes.