Tea and Blood

Tea and Blood Who do I tell first? Do I need to tell anyone? Nice just to go on, if not it’ll be like a finale every time I meet anyone. Isn’t it odd I never used to cry, but the last few years. And its stupid things, like bad films, war memories and tacky television.

And now, why now? Bloody tears, they are quite sore, my cheeks feel sore.

John looked in the car mirror, wiping his cheeks with a greyed white handkerchief.

I should talk to that Mrs Jefferson, she’s supposed to be the expert, help me organise my time, she must know who I should tell, but I don’t want to tell anyone, no one close.

What the hell do I say to Julie?

Oh stop crying John!

Come on look at you sitting in a hospital car park crying, and about what, yourself, what you’ll miss… what I’ll miss. It’s my own fault, must be, Mr Kale told me six years ago to cut down on alcohol. NO John don’t kid yourself he told you to cut out alcohol altogether, and what do you do? A couple of bottles of Johnnie every week. STOP lying to yourself John, come on cut out the shit, three or four bottles, ah well… does it really all matter? Well it used not to, but you are a father now, well will be soon.

Wonder what his first name is? It’s always so formal, calling me Professor; we work for the same University for heaven’s sake.

Curly Kale?

My son my daughter will be well set up. Mary will want the house, oh gawd… all that shit is to come isn’t it, she’ll be fighting for every penny, but all that was sorted, agreed upon, bugger her, she had enough. Must go and see Mr Campbell get all of it sorted, what a bloody barny it all is.

I must make sure all those contracts are sorted.

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