Sitting on doughnuts

mercredi, le 09 septembre 2009

Unfortunately not freshly baked, delicious doughnuts sprinkled in bright hundreds and thousands or chocolate vermicelli, or better still, those shiny silver little balls that masters of confectionary decorate their creations with.

No, I’ve taken to fixing my back just to find out that my coccyx is cracked. And now I have to sit on a round doughnut cushion made of memory foam covered in a boring beige fabric to alleviate the pressure!

The Physio sent me off the chemist with a seemingly endless list of things to ease the pain. For consolation I added some bath delights to my shopping bag. This time their will be no pampering treats from L’homme, so I have to grab my own.

I linger in the bookshop for some bed rest reads and stop at the delicatessen to stock up on some delights that will make the medicine go down.

As I walk out of the delicatessen I realise that I have no idea where my car keys are. I suspect I left them in the chemist between pills and cushions, but alas, they are nowhere to be found. Hot flushes of panic flow over me. In my pain induced haze, I left home without my mobile phone and now I’m stuck in a mall without my car keys. The only number I can recall from memory is that of L’homme.

But I can hear his irritability, I can feel his annoyance and delete from memory that he could possibly rescue me. I limp back to the bookshop, but there are no keys on the shelves where I browsed. I ask at the desk and offer to reward the man who hands me my keys with a quick cup of coffee. I’m infinitely relieved when he smiles sweetly, but declines.

I walk into the parking lot in the bright afternoon sun and suddenly there is no recall in my mind of where I parked my car. I achingly walk this way and that, but all I find is my car. I stand around sheepishly for a while, imitating The Princess in the park. At least I do not have a ball in my mouth. But the thought does cross my mind that I’ll soon have a zimmer frame and a colostomy bag! And then I see my car.

Note to self: when in excruciating pain, take a taxi or phone a friend, and, if you can’t get that together – don’t forget your mobile phone at home!

Tonight The Actress, her daughter and The Artist stopped at the shop for a drink. And we talked about Paris and making movies and poetry and things that are soft on the soul.

And as I tell my staff that an era is about to come to an end, I see L’homme drive past, peering into the emptiness of my shop and my heart but I see my soul in all its splendour sitting in the passenger seat next to him.

(The Actress brought some flowers to brighten the dullness of my doughnut cushion.)