Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Lydia and a water closet

Something I wrote to keep my fingers and my imagination busy

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Lydia is my neighbour. Sometimes I go downstairs to ask her for a bit of sugar because for some reason I keep forgetting to buy some at the small supermarket round the corner. I enter the place thinking "buy sugar, buy sugar", but then the colours and the smells and my hunger distract me from that and I only remember when I'm watching TV in my bath robe.

She always welcomes me with a blush and a flicker of her eyelashes, which I find cute.

Yesterday it was her who came up to ask me for a bottle opener. She was wearing a black dress, makeup and high heels. It made me jealous of something, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. I gave it to her and we smalltalked for a split second. The weather is nice. Yes, it was warm today finally. That is a nice dress. Thank you very much, I gotta go.

I went back to my sofa and threw the remote to the wall.

Every monday, wednesday and friday, at exactly four o-clock p.m., the sound of a violin comes through the ventilation hole in my WC. Last week I installed a small table in there, and now I sit on the toilet and read a book and have a coffee while listening to it. I find my WC a little bit depressing, so I went to the supermarket this morning and bought three cans of paint (green, white and blue) and forgot to buy sugar.

Going to the toilet now is like going to the toilet when camping in Ireland.

Lydia likes it, I showed it to her when she came to return the bottle opener. How do you like my WC? It's very nice, it was a good idea. Thank you. You're welcome. How was dinner last night? Very well, I had fun. I'm glad to hear that. I have to go. Have a nice day. You too.

I'm still jealous, but the blush and the flicker were there.

I have no sugar and it's monday. And it's five to four p.m. I decide to go ask Lydia for some to put in my coffee, so I change into not-a-bath-robe and go downstairs. If I'm quick, I won't miss the violin. I knock on her door and she takes ages to answer. I check my watch, it's two to four p.m. Lydia opens the door and she's holding a violin and a bow. I gape at her. She blushes. Instead of asking for sugar, I ask her out. She says yes.

I am sitting on my toilet drinking a coffee with no sugar listening to a violin through the ventilation hole in the WC.

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