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TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: profile


04.05.19

I'm in the bar, minding the phone for the husband's office while waiting for the mother-in-law to return from the hospital. I've been opening the bar for the last few days. People drop by to ask after the father-in-law, and I update them. He's improving, but he still has the hiccups, which keeps him awake at night. All the cousins and neighbours and even the local TD, a Fianna Fail man like my father-in-law, have visited him. I wish I knew how to drive, it would help my mother-in-law so much.

At times like this, scatterbrained and restless, unable to do more than the small actions I can take with the limited resources I have, I feel so remote from society, from the things that bind humans together, helpfulness and empathy and care. I have more in common with my dog, a dependent mute little animal, than I do with humanity. (Ok, except for the carefree, butt-sniffing, plastic-eating part.)






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