Marcia or Martin

Is that Marcia or Martin in the distance – there by the old wall? Depends who got the upper hand after breakfast. I guess Marcia, always so brilliantly attuned, she couldn’t wait. First thing she said, 'I dreamt a large specimen, Limax flavus, squirming under the hedge', followed by 'bats in the blue jar, by tonight, if I can find them'. Of course, I know what to expect. She has that glare: never expects discourse. She slammed the door as she left and the inks toppled off the nightstand, ‘Lights of the world be free!' she called, a kind of manic crie de joie. l watched little tremors shimmer over the surface of the ink and thought how much like her, all that viscous potential. Remember the Island of Naath, her night vigil to find a black moth? That sort of fervour. And still the same blue gloves. I do think, ever since the tracheostomy, her ferocious rushing has become more pronounced. Which means Martin is more frequently kept at bay. So, it’ll be Marcia today.