ME and Ophelia
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
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FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING
Ferreting under my bed too Suw!!
In bed this morning felt especially warm and cosy. Something was telling me to get up. Opened eyes. Pitch dark. Silence. No seagulls. Too early. Bliss. Closed eyes. Rolled over. And then....it started. Noises from underneath my bed. Gripple. Gripple. Scratch. Scratch.
It's Ophelia - crawling over boxes under my high Victorian brass bed. Pawing and scratching at the lid of a cardboard box. Trying to squeeze inside. Full to the brim with books. New books. Might scratch the glossy covers. She's doesn't give up.
Switch on light. Go to kitchen. Open back door. Pitch dark, foggy and cold. Ophelia skips out. Here I am, writing this. Looking at the clock. It's 10 to five in the morning.
FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING
Ferreting under my bed too Suw!!
In bed this morning felt especially warm and cosy. Something was telling me to get up. Opened eyes. Pitch dark. Silence. No seagulls. Too early. Bliss. Closed eyes. Rolled over. And then....it started. Noises from underneath my bed. Gripple. Gripple. Scratch. Scratch.
It's Ophelia - crawling over boxes under my high Victorian brass bed. Pawing and scratching at the lid of a cardboard box. Trying to squeeze inside. Full to the brim with books. New books. Might scratch the glossy covers. She's doesn't give up.
Switch on light. Go to kitchen. Open back door. Pitch dark, foggy and cold. Ophelia skips out. Here I am, writing this. Looking at the clock. It's 10 to five in the morning.