Popcorn

 

Synesthesia is not a medical condition. Or a mental illness. It’s a gift.

1am 

As I write, a car horn goes off twice. Summernats starts later today. 

Sweeping over my right shoulder are Betelgeuse, Rigel and Canopus. 

I have concussion, caused by heat stroke. When I told my beloved I had concussion without mentioning the heat stroke, he texted immediately (no emojis) …

Well, what happened? Are you okay? Me and the boys are not to get hurt anyone do we?

I love the typo. He has the largest hands I have ever seen on a man, but he is very neat with them.

I got the gist of his text, and replied …

No darling, honestly I live in a good area.

If I was to be battered with an iron rod, who else would do it? I can only think of an aggrieved neighbour as no one else ever knows where I am.

If I’m silent on my blog for a while, I know some think I’ve died.

I write to publish on other mediums these days.

I remain honoured and privileged to be included in the PANDORA archive.

Our forever home is mainly occupied by women and children. The House of Abundant Peace is a platinum build in a sea of really quite good quality medium density complexes. Cavernous rooms with premium insulation. Vast picture windows and multiple decks and balconies shaded by 100 year old trees.On a day forecast like today – 36c – with the windows closed, I’d die on the lounge in airless preservation if not for the airconditioning. 

No darling, no one is getting through our security system.

It’s true. It’s a little elaborate, but we agreed, we wanted it all. We prefer all the cameras. 

The worse I can imagine occurring in my beautiful home is being jumped by a neighbour into watching a sudden freak off in their lit-up minimalist apartment, when I’m writing on my deck at night. That would be appalling.

2.34am I’m off to gaze at Sirius.  There is so much to be seen at night in Canberra with the naked eye.

Everything tastes like popcorn, but I’m feeling so much better.