Shhh! Scribbler at Work

Love - a Sugar-coated Pill

[prompt - 'approach' 14/12/18]

It was more than just a daydream. Must have drifted off while I watched the cricket... not the most gripping sport for me at the best of times. And I was in my oh-so-comfy rocker-recliner chair, and the sun bathed me in its soft warmth, giving no hint of the sharpish autumn wind. Must have been a dream coloured by the clinking of ice in her glass. Must have been a dream that she was only tipsy - at her most romantic, amusing and loveable self.

"If I oiled up my face with much vanishing cream,

Then would you remember how soft it has been?"

She whispered these words in my shell-like ear.

"Would that help your tiny brain, my dear?"

And I found myself so tickled by her words, I inexplicably used the same poetic 'voice' - but not out loud. Oh no! Life as I know it would be over if she could read my mind. But in the dream, I answered -

"And blur all those wrinkles your face has formed?

Turn back the clock, no more age-deformed?"

Out loud I was braver, with desired behaviour -

"Photographic again, just like Barbie?

Sweethearts again, like Joan and Darby?"

Inside I laughed wildly; outside, nearly mute.

Congratulating myself, "Ohh what a beaut!"

She replied with much feeling, "My sweet darling bunny,

You make me all gooey, like golden runny honey."

And then I awoke, to the sound of breaking glass and a voice sloshing around like the contents of the glass had been moments earlier.

"Unriddle me, riddleme, ree,

There'z sumthin' I can't even see, no more. Itstha glass. S'my glass. SEBASTIAN!?!"

My heart sank deeper. Ohh NO! Drunk again! Promises, promises! My head felt too heavy to hold up, and deep inside where no-one could see or hear, I swore with gusto. My despair was a living, breathing thing that tore me apart again. Just like every time I heard Sharna's voice in this, the slurring stage. It was anyone's guess what would follow. Could be violence, usually against me - sometimes against herself; could be another snoring, dribbling catatonic state. That would be preferable.

And I hopelessly questioned, as so many, many times before, when and how this agony would ever end. With the 'end' of one or both of us, maybe? The thought came unbidden, but it was not a new one. I chided himself at such times for this negativity... but after all, I'm only human. Human enough to remember, only too well, happier days.

Out loud I said, [avoiding the tiniest hint of disapproval - and yet another lengthy and painful wrangle) "I know what I can see... the beauty queen I married nearly 20 years ago." And took the quietest, most satisfied intake of breath as Sharna smiled and preened. My heart lifted again on a small wave of impossible optimism.

'Throw praise, not stones,' the counsellor had said. "A different approach. Try it!"