A brief dalliance in delusion

I was sitting in the gym changing room. 

I was alone.

Then I heard a voice...

"Hello? Is anyone there?" 

It was a small American voice, not the voice of a child exactly, more like that of a tiny under-nourished androgynous adult. 

I looked around.

I was still the only person in the room.

I must have imagined it. 

I carried on getting changed.

"Hello" repeated the diminutive Yank.

I looked around. There was DEFINITELY nobody else in the room.

"Is anybody there?" persisted the voice.

"Oh my god." I thought "This is it, it's finally happened, I am hearing voices." 

I looked around once again, I knelt on the floor to check there was no one trapped behind the lockers and to check to see if I could see a borrower (I wish I could say at this point I'm exercising poetic license, but I really did check).

"Hello" The soft voice asked again.

"What should I do?" I pondered "Should I reply? Should I tell one of my friends? I might be on medication for the rest of my life. But no, I can't reply because then that would be to make the voice real."

"Is anyone there?" 

No! The voice was trapped inside my head. 

I sat down on the bench. 

"What if this is the voice I'm always going to hear?" My mind raced with questions  as I continued to be asked if anyone was there "It has a really annoying accent, this is a disaster. I at least wanted a voice with some gravitas, this voice is just whining and a bit shy."

Just as I thought this I lent back on one of the lockers.

The voice sounded again and as it did the locker gently vibrated. 

I quickly looked around and then put my ear to the locker. I was about to say "Hello?" When I realised that the voice was someone's idiot ring tone and not that of a borrower, nor my brain.

That above process lasted around 45 seconds.

So to conclude I'm not actually mad, well only in the respect that I'm not hearing voices, I suppose I might be a bit to believe I actually was, and a little madder still, to briefly consider the possibly that the voice belonged to a Borrower!

Love

A few months ago I was walking round Highbury corner when a man stopped me.

"Hello" He said. "Do you have a boyfriend?" 

"Yes" I replied hurredly, even though this wasn't true.

"I'm not surprised you're very pretty" He lamented.

"Oh well" I said.

"It's a shame you have a boyfriend. If you didn't I would have to take you on a date"

"Ok bye" Said I.

"Such beautiful eyes" He whispered with a dying fall. 

He was a tramp. 

Today I met a Bassett Hound, with ginger eyebrows and a hangdog expression. He was tied to a lamppost. As I approached he wagged his tail and so I bent down patted him on the head and told him he was lovely. He looked embarrassed and I left.

 

I spend approximately 5% of my waking hours and perhaps 10-15% of my dreams considering how much happier my life would be were I to own a dog. I think of Norfolk Terriers, Beagles and Jack Russell's and wonder at the amazing Beagle/Jack Russell cross-bread aka Jacakabee (were I to get one I would obviously name it Sir Derek) but until today I had not considered Bassett Hounds to be a contender. 

But as I walked away from my chance encounter I thought of how happy I would be if only I had a Bassett Hound and so now I'd say they are in with a chance.

I wish people on buses wouldn't whip my face with their dreadlocks.