Hergest Ridge

The second of the pair of my gerbils has seen his last day after a relatively peaceful passing. My neighbour on the other hand suffered a lot in his last days, leaving his 48 year old wife to go through her own suffering while she packs her suitcases for Sweden.

Over the last four years I crossed paths with the two in the hallway – their names still unknown to me despite having immigrated from the same country. That’s how things are around here: there is so much physical space, everyone is accustomed to a lot of personal space.

Like animals in the wild, when another creature comes within arms reach we simply move somewhere new where we can continue avoiding contact. Those that do not often receive unpleasant looks to the tune of “What’s wrong with you?”

While packing myself, I’ve shed some old and misguided books by leaving them in the lobby for anyone to take. They and the few movies on VHS and other things disappeared almost immediately in whole. Had I known they’d go so fast, I would have stood there and sold them for a dollar a piece, leaving me with a pocket full of money to foot the next grocery bill. Life goes on.

 
“I mean, who the hell writes with a fountain pen anymore?
For Christ’s sake; How fricking pretentious is that?”

Yes, yes I still write with a fountain pen and find the excerpt from Duplicity hilarious. Call it starting to laughing at yourself in a healthy way, or the early stages of oncoming insanity. Either way, I am sure I’ll enjoy it. :)

 
There is a story, which is fairly well known, about when the missionaries came to Africa. They had the Bible and we, the natives, had the land.
They said “Let us pray,” and we dutifully shut our eyes.
When we opened them, why, they now had the land and we had the Bible.
 
Desmond M. Tutu

I found this, and two other blank pages on the riverside. Discarded? Lost? Deliberately placed?

Not much to go on with, but now you know everything I do. 
 
Pain Lies on the Riverside
Live, Mental Jewelry