The Protector

I watch her like a hawk.

Not to attack her.

But to save her.

She sits in the office window, mobile pressed to her ear, offering more than she needs to to someone who doesn’t deserve it. Yes there is a work opportunity for him, just like she told him many moons ago there could be. But she knows the time has been and gone when he might have deserved that opportunity. There’s no need to seek his approval now.

They finish talking about the opportunity. She changes the subject. “Did you like my invite” she says.

The hawk swoops lower. She’s on dangerous ground.

“I don’t expect you can come” she says.

The hawk is still.

“Yes nice invite” he says, “I can’t come, but I wish I could”. He offers no reason like people normally would.

The hawk swoops and gathers her in its beak.

“No problem.” She says. She asks for no reason. She’s not hurt. “Anyway, I must be getting back to work now. Bye.”

The predator soars away over the cliff tops, swallowing its weak prey.

She doesn’t need to persuade him of her worth. She doesn’t need him to come back.

She doesn’t need a replacement for the One she was separated from all that time ago, because she never really lost him. She was just too little to understand then.

But she’s a big girl now.

And she’s explained to the child.

“You never really lost him”.

Thou wall , O wall! O sweet and lovely wall!

I lean against the sink spooning Ambrosia rice pudding out of the carton. My gaze wonders absentmindedly outside whereupon it spies Pyramus and Thisbe whispering ten o’ clock sweet nothings to eachother over the garden wall. I smile. This amusing scenario started a few weeks back. My friend (who I shall simply call Sister as this best explains our relationship) had been staying with me and although we are used to sleeping in the same bed having known eachother since Cabbage Patch Kids were all the rage, we have in our old age, come to value our space. Sister had therefore appreciatively accepted the offer of her own bed for the night as one of my flatmates was away. Unfortunately, this perchanced to be the night that Pyramus would attempt to woo his Thisbe. My Irish flatmate (Pyramus) managed to talk my blonde neighbour (Thisbe) into a few jars at Ninny’s Tomb (The Local Boozer) over our garden wall. Unlike Quince's lovers…they did actually manage to meet at Ninny’s…but Pyramus didn’t quite manage to seal the deal …and hence brought Thisbe back to our kitchen (which happens to be directly below where Sister had settled down for a long night’s rest). Here, they proceeded to tuck into a large bottle of Vodka to settle the ‘pre-snog’ nerves…and with each glass, their flirtations crescendoed until eventually there came a knock upon my door in the early hours. “Can I sleep in with you” came the weary voice…"I keep thinking any minute now they’ll snog and shut up…but it’s been HOURS!”

The next morning, I see Thisbe ungainly clambering over the garden wall back to her house. Clearly Pyramus eventually managed to seal the deal.