written by owen

On Saturday the last thing that I expected to happen, "happened" in the blink of an eye. She started to smoke. I have nothing against women that smoke. Because I really don't know any women that smoke. It came as a shock to me as if I was hit by lighting or made contact my tongue and a 9volt battery for the first time. Or in a case in which I'm disappointed in people who go to the beach on Labour Day. "Dem no have nutten bout dem". Slackers as the Odd one would say. The Nephew realised it first, so obviously it was his fault. It is a rule we have, like many rules, designed to cast blame without argument or logic. She started to smoke. We stopped her immediately fearing the worst which we knew because its not everyday just starts smoking "out of the blue" or "in the dark" or whatever.

I felt my heart sink as if I had lost something I cared deeply about. I searched for answers to the obvious questions; did I not call her enough? pay her enough attention? give her everything she could ever need? stroke her smooth nobs until she started to purr like a kitten? It was too late she was half the woman she was now. Spilt milk.

In any event I was not about to get rid of her like old cloths. But instead I will bring her back to life again. By any means necessary. Its never too late. We had shared too much together. A love like this is too hard to find. Call me a hopeless romantic - I don't care but its the little things that give us the most joy. keep us clean. The gleefulness of it all. So they took her away, off to rehad. A empty, dirty space is all thats left where she used to stand. I cleaned there once a lone time ago and marvelled at her bueatiful smile. I watched as they took her away for the first time since we've been together. "Monday" they said, "We'll see what we can do". I waved, she didn't look back, I waved, she gave me the finger. I cried inside. An Ode to a Speed Queen.

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