Not all, some facets of life are beginning to disenchant me.
You can’t ring someone without them knowing it’s you before they pick up the phone. There goes surprise right out of the window.
Some years (26) ago in a moment of madness, egged on by Fiona, a colleague of mine, I had my palm looked at. In a tent. Not that location matters. Same difference. Everything went swimmingly till the reader came to a particular line on my right hand. She literally threw it [my hand] back at me, looked at me – AGHAST – and, after wishing me “a good life”, showed me the exit in no uncertain terms.
I didn’t think about it at the time. I am used to drama. Most my friends are in the theatrics one way or another. Not so much exaggeration but caricature being their signature tune. In my case, and I am not on the stage, don’t take seriously now REPENT AT LEISURE.
Have come to horrible conclusion. Either send chocolate (or other currency) now or come and see me in the loon’s bin. I’d recommend the former since the latter won’t be fun – for either of us. Cro – you may send me a goose. Keep the liver.
To top it all, today I have had two telephone conversations which have confirmed all I have never wanted to know: The end is nigh.
No, I am not about to die, I am just ending.
Hugs, hisses and howls,