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28 November 2009 12:23 PM
Not all clever moves offer a winning checkmate.

In one spontaneous move, I have offered, during this beautiful long weekend, to revamp, re-organise and re-file all of the family documents, all the black-and-whites of births and deaths and moneys in and out. That offer was made last Tuesday, preferably due last Thursday, but its still a heap on my desk, untouched, unsought. I am slowly trudging up adulthood.

So its Saturday, and I woke lazily, at 6 then 7 then 8am, a text and a call and now my mind is fussing about the boyfriend being dutiful, out on the wrong (read : lawful) side of the ugly crowd on last night's Friday night mayhem. At the mention of drawing a gun, my heart skips a beat, and another, and all the more I dig deeper into the bed.

I don't like it anymore. Not in the long run. Not after all I've heard.


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