House

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Nothing much to report today, but I did stumble on a story/monologue that I wrote eight or nine years ago. So, here it is.

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I was in this...house, the other day. And someone had wallpapered over all the doors and windows. So if you wanted to move...between the kitchen and the bathroom...or the bedroom and the garage...you had to go...under the floorboards.

And if you wanted to go upstairs you had to be careful. Because someone had installed a moat and drawbridge...halfway up.

But that wasn't the strangest thing about this house. Because everyone in it...was a retired comedian...from one of those old music halls...that you only ever see...in black and white. So every time you made a cup of tea...you did a song and dance about it. And every time you wanted to make love...you said so...in a loud...stage...whisper.

And I was feeling right at home in this old house, which had a giant beanstalk growing in the garden...and TV in every room. And I was getting along fine...because the people were my kind of people. Until they told me...that I was the guest of honour...and it was my job ...to give the after dinner speech...

...in honour if the patron...

...whose name no one could quite remember.

I was watching this film. And every time the hero slapped his thigh, the female lead broke into tears.

Or was it the other way around....

I was talking, to a friend of a friend, about the problem of quantum singularities in space-time, and I said to them, "Why is it, whenever anyone promises to telephone you at eight thirty, they never do it, until nine fifteen.

And why is it, you can never remember the names of all seven dwarfs."

And they said, "It's simple. We're all part of a single creature, feeling it's way towards cosmic truth. And sometimes it takes a wrong turning, and we all have to backtrack a little, to set it back on the right path."

And I said, "Okay then, why is it that whenever you want to open a new tin of soup, the tin opener is never where you left it. And why can you never find any paperclips when you need them."

And he said, "God has been watching you since before you were born, and he will be there the moment you die. Every misfortune and each little setback is just God's way of telling you to be patient."

And I said to him...

"The truth is music played on instruments that make no sound. Thought is a blind man guarding an invisible treasure. And language...is a virus from outer space."

And then I noticed. That I was talking to the bathroom mirror.

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