Richard Pierce

Life, Poetry, Writing

Day 324


something always turns into
something else every time
something starts and
something ends and
something’s in the middle

fractions would never allow
us to get to a final destination
if we followed logic and them
ad infinitum and that’s the
weakness of the rational

never expecting dark to turn
into light never wanting bad
to turn into good never having
sour turn into sweet in your
mouth when you unexpect it

short turns into long
long into short
wide into narrow
deep into shallow
dogma never allows

everything always turns into
everything else in time
everything starts when it stops
everything is illogical visceral
everything circle circle circle straight

R, 20/11/2022 18:52



Nothing looks different. Everything looks the same. The dust clears, and nothing has changed. No damage, no rubble, no ruins, no collapsing tunnels. But Valentine is gone. Aggie thinks she must just have imagined him, contemplates for a moment climbing back out of the tunnel into the Cathedral, but thinks better of it, and starts to run along the tunnel towards her house, their house, Lily’s house. At this pace, it’s a few steps and a couple of breaths. The keys are ready in her hand before she gets to the door into the cellar of the house. There’s no sign that anyone has been here since she last walked the rocks up to Pulls Ferry and the Cathedral. She unlocks the door, pushes it closed behind her. She fears Valentine may just be ahead of her, without having left tracks or signs. Unless he wasn’t real again. She didn’t touch him. He could have been a projection, just an imagined spectre from her false memories again, if those memories are false.

She finds her way up the stairs, and, as she opens the door from the stairs into the corridor, puts her feet on the parquet of the ground floor, hears voices coming down the next step of stairs from the kitchen. Familiar voices. Warmth floods through her, and she tiptoes up the stairs because she doesn’t want them to know she’s here yet, doesn’t want to risk some ridiculous welcome scene in the darkening corridor. Al she really wants to do is to sidle into the kitchen, take Lily by the hand, and lead her to the room upstairs, and cover herself in her scent and kisses, and embraces, and the wish that she could for once fall asleep instead of being forever awake.

‘When will she be back?’ Robert’s voice. What is he doing here?

‘She’ll be back when she’s back. There’ll be a reason she’s not sent any message,’ Lily says.

‘The world’s in crisis,’ Robert says.

‘Youre exaggertaing again, old man,’ Zav says. ‘If there was going to be a war it would already have started.’

‘Hmph,’ Rpbert exclaims, less than elegantly.

‘There nothing we can actually do about it all anyway,’ Anna says. ‘Stop with the alpha male shit. And Ukraine and Russia are supposedly negotiating…’

‘In whose favour?’ Robert says. ‘In whose?’

‘Does it matter?’ Katharina says. ‘The fact they’re talking and there’s a ceasefire is enough for now.’

‘But Cassie,’ Robert says. ‘Where’s Cassie in all this, never mind Aggie?’

Aggie steps noiselessly and silently in to the room. ‘Well, I’m here,’ she says. ‘For now.’

Lily, mouth open, looks like she’s about to cry, starts towards Aggie, stops herself, puts her hand over her mouth, just locks eyes with her lover.

Robert, as he always has since Aggie met him, is the first to take a step towards her, opens his arms wide, pulls her into a bear’s embrace. ‘So nice to see you, my dear,’ he says. ‘I missed you.’

Aggie, who senses his trembling has grown worse, lets the hug continue until Robert disengages, and when he has stepped back, says ‘I’m dying for a decent cup of coffee.’

Lily, finally, comes round the table, briefly strokes Aggie’s head. ‘Sit down. I’ll make it.’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I want to. And then you can tell us all about it, and what the hell happens next.’

‘But I don’t know what happens next,’ Aggie says, and drops into the nearest vacant chair, next to Anna.

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