I was chatting to my friend Laura on the phone this evening, sitting on my bed looking out of my window. A familiar flicker in the middle distance caught my eye, and my tics responded instantly
“Good evening lamp-post.”
I’ve been away from the castle for much of the summer and since I’ve got back I’ve been better at remembering to shut my blind at night. Consequently I’ve chatted less with my old friend the lamp-post than I used to.
But he’s still there and I felt a glow of affection as I watched his bulb warm up and come on for the night. But this warmth didn’t last long and moments after putting the phone down my tics started their habitual nagging:
“Lamp-post, you’ve let yourself go.”
“Lamp-post, what are you doing with your life?”
“Lamp-post, which bird shat on your head?”
The lamp-post didn’t answer but just his noticing his presence made me feel very at home.