Daylight. 14.06, says the clock. I sit up in bed. One eye won't open. I shuffle my feet on the tiles as I head into the kitchen, one eye focusing, still groggy. I can't quite believe I have slept that late. I was supposed to be in the country some time in the morning. I guess that's what I get for staying up till 4am on my computer. I'm not going to mention what websites I was on.
Good, gooOOood Morning! David, practically, yodels, suddenly at the kitchen door. What a lovely, lovely, lovely day it is today.
Grunt.
How are you on this glorious day?
Alive.
And, isn't it wonderful to be alive!
Grunt.
Have you had your first coffee?
No.
How long do I have to wait before I can sing a song?
How about 2012.
Melodic laugh. I'm just bursting. There's a song I just have to get out.
Why don't you use the big knife to get to it?
Big eyes. Maniacal smile. Twisting side to side, with his harms wrapped around himself, the physical manifestation of a song waiting to bust forth.
I don't think you realise how much I am restraining myself, he says, almost, with a girlish squeal.
I pick up my coffee and make eye contact for the first time. Low and sinister, I say, I don't think you realise how much I am restraining myself. My left hand just naturally balls into a fist, as I sip my coffee and make my retreat from Doris Day.
You're SO funny, David carols after me.
Shouldn't you be teaching somebody... somewhere?
Yes. Laugh. I'm leaving very soon. You won't have to put up with me for much longer. Just about to go.
There is a god.
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