Saturday, 1 August 2009


Whilst his grandfather gazed solemnly out the window at the passing clouds, Jonson endeavoured to write things down. He took a deep breath and tried to focus. It was always the same. He would start well, he would begin with the best intentions which were always gradually absolved by a waning enthusiasm and restless temperament. He would become despondent and disheartened with the whole endeavour. Probably he was just lazy.
"I'm away with the fairies, I'm afraid," Bob reported. "Not that I'm suggesting you're a fairy... What is it you're planning to do?"
Jonson became hesitant.
"Are you studying?"
Jonson remained hesitant and then began to speak. Outside, the grey animal silhouettes formed by clouds were obliterated quite quickly.

A woman came in to prepare some lunch for Bob. Bob introduced himself to her even though she had been here that morning and the day before.
Later in the afternoon a woman came in who introduced herself as Helena, the chief occupational therapist. She began making conversation with Bob by way of evaluating his constitution it seemed. Bob looked over to Jonson for help with many of the questions including if he liked watching TV and how many grandchildren he had.
"Five," Jonson reminded him. Bob seemed pleased with this figure as if it served as some kind of evidence of his reproductive potency, an area he still sometimes made obtuse references to.

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