Tidying Up | Part Four of The Death Strand

Today I am airing the house, following last nights ritual water purge of my father’s death (washing and scrubbing the bad off).

I must hurry and finish this transcription, then I can get on…
Night Night night dark Christmas night, which is rather a downer. Led to reckless non-sleep until c1am. This is no good. My system is rather worn down wonderland. Sleeping P. Boxing day to what must now be called S-‘s house (until the mortgage company reposess anyway). Saw rows of clothes and rows of shoes and rows of bicycles, then we came home. Sand in my joints, low-maintenance and I know that my course materials have arrived from O.U. – media studies to fill my dumb numb skull with. I grit my teeth once again…
And find that nothing has changed.
L slept in the afternoon, we come to evening with a lousy film and stretch things, another beer, chanel-hopping till I can take no more. I go to bed … nothing. I come downstairs, there is some shouting …. help, some cracks are forming thanks to this death. A year … I can … A lonely night spent awake. Cleaned the kitchen a bit. Maybe I am mistaken or maybe I am a mistake myself, my brain is fading – no, melting – breakdown. A breath of fresh air is needed, I thought I could see some but maybe I was wrong.
Oh. It wouldn’t be the first time … another evening flick the TV till I’m tired and cosy. What shall we do now? Change channels!
It’s imposible to articulate this sh*t, it’s impossible to ask … oh can we go back to where we were? I am again worried sick tired/cold/hot/whatever.
Suddenly, like crash! It all goes normal, I order flowers for the funeral, do the banking, P goes to one of her little friends and a slight slide to the improvement side.

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