Clack, clack, clack, clack. Dum.
Can fingers sweat? I don’t know if they can but mine feel like they’re pouring.
Replying. Elipses, elipses. Stop. Why did it stop? Why has she stopped typing.
“Hi, my name is Brian. I love your profile picture, you seem like a fun person, fancy a chat?”
Was it creepy? Was it sleazy? When people say fun they don’t usually mean fun, they mean sex. Did I mean sex?
Elipses. And a stone in the water sound.
“Hi Brian, it’s nice to meet you. You must have a good read on people ;) so tell me about yourself?”
Wink face. That means flirting. That means I’m flirting.
Clack, clack, clack, clack. This isn’t so bad, it’s okay. It’s just a conversation. Some well deserved adult conversation.
A burst – “Dad, dad, dad, dad!”
Slam the laptop down, “What have I told you about knocking! You lot have no manners! Can I not get two minutes to myself for Christ sake”
His little face crumples like a wet napkin and his mouth goes that oval shape I hate. “Oh don’t cry. Don’t cry” – between sobs he snivels, “I j-j-ust wanted a st- story”
It’s not a big ask, and I like books after all I work with them. All day. Everyday. Non stop. It’s not a big ask but why do I feel like he’s asking me to flip the world inside out for him?
Snot and tears.
High beams through the blinds. He wipes some tears from his eyes and says “Mummy’s home” excitedly.