healers, dietary plans… there will be something we can do.”
I was a fool to believe she’d just accept it. That wasn’t her style. I was my mother’s world and she wouldn’t let me go without a fight. In the condition she was in, I didn’t want her fighting on my behalf. I thought about that Fiona woman and her pledge to help me. Her contact details were seared into my memory, despite trying to swallow them. If it would help my mother, I’d see her. I’d make an appointment the second I got home. If there was something to be done, I’d do it. Sure, my mother raised a quitter, but it wouldn’t help to let her know that.
“Mum, there’s someone I can see. She’s a counsellor. She said she could help me. I’ll make an appointment when I get home.”
She lifted her head and nodded gratefully. “See! You’re going to be fine dear.” She buried her face into my shirt again.
“I know, mum,” I replied even if I didn’t believe it.
I sat in my car, completely drained with my head slumped against the steering wheel. From the passenger seat, the wool-mouthed sluts were smiling at me, promising me a brief escape. I drove to a quiet side street and masturbated, knowing intuitively that ejaculation would bring more self-hatred… more fear.
6.
I slumped through my front door, chock full of post-orgasmic guilt. The apartment I entered didn’t look like mine. They key opened the lock, which suggested this was definitely my place. What struck me the most was the cleanliness that now surrounded me. I had never seen my apartment so clean. It was confronting. I stepped inside cautiously, like it was a trap. Even the stale odour was gone, replaced with a pleasant citrus scent. How was this possible? Where had all the rubbish gone?
“Oh, Bruce! Came a voice through the hole in my wall.
It was Rhonda, wearing an apron, a feather duster and what looked like a steel wool bra. She waved and came bounding toward me. I instinctively cowered.
“I hope you don’t mind, dear, but I straightened up a little. I just thought, in your condition, you needed a nice, clean place to relax. You don’t mind, do you?”
She looked genuinely concerned, like she’d broken the cardinal rule of the faceless neighbour. I didn’t respond straight away. I was still entranced by the state of my apartment. It looked immaculate. I wanted to run my tongue over every surface. Not only wasn’t I angry, but I wanted to pick Rhonda up and kiss her. I wanted to hold her close and thank her again and again. “No… I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. Thank you.”
She beamed a relieved smile. “I’m so happy you’re not angry. I didn’t even think about what I was doing. I just saw a mess and had to clean it. Ask Vince. I do it all the time. I think I have a touch of the obsessive compulsives when it comes to this.”
“This must have taken you hours.”
“Not really. I have the whole cleaning game down to a fine art. You break it down into quadrants and just attack it. If you get better, I’ll teach you…” As those last words escaped her mouth, she took a few steps backward. “I’m so, so sorry, Bruce. I didn’t mean to say ‘if’. I meant ‘when’. When you get better.”
I brushed it off. “It’s okay.’ I stared at her. “I’m probably not going to get better. That’s just the way it is. I’ll be fine. People get cancer every day.” I walked to my armchair, embracing the absence of clutter that usually blocked my path. I let my body fall and the cushions kissed me. “Would you like something to drink, Rhonda?”
“No, dear. It’s fine. I was actually going to invite you to eat with Vince and I. I’m making Baked Meal tonight. There will be more than enough.”
“You’ve already done enough. It’s fine. Think I’ll probably have an early one, but thank you, Rhonda. I mean it.”
She walked toward me and gave me a peck on the forehead. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s strange to
I was a fool to believe she’d just accept it. That wasn’t her style. I was my mother’s world and she wouldn’t let me go without a fight. In the condition she was in, I didn’t want her fighting on my behalf. I thought about that Fiona woman and her pledge to help me. Her contact details were seared into my memory, despite trying to swallow them. If it would help my mother, I’d see her. I’d make an appointment the second I got home. If there was something to be done, I’d do it. Sure, my mother raised a quitter, but it wouldn’t help to let her know that.
“Mum, there’s someone I can see. She’s a counsellor. She said she could help me. I’ll make an appointment when I get home.”
She lifted her head and nodded gratefully. “See! You’re going to be fine dear.” She buried her face into my shirt again.
“I know, mum,” I replied even if I didn’t believe it.
I sat in my car, completely drained with my head slumped against the steering wheel. From the passenger seat, the wool-mouthed sluts were smiling at me, promising me a brief escape. I drove to a quiet side street and masturbated, knowing intuitively that ejaculation would bring more self-hatred… more fear.
6.
I slumped through my front door, chock full of post-orgasmic guilt. The apartment I entered didn’t look like mine. They key opened the lock, which suggested this was definitely my place. What struck me the most was the cleanliness that now surrounded me. I had never seen my apartment so clean. It was confronting. I stepped inside cautiously, like it was a trap. Even the stale odour was gone, replaced with a pleasant citrus scent. How was this possible? Where had all the rubbish gone?
“Oh, Bruce! Came a voice through the hole in my wall.
It was Rhonda, wearing an apron, a feather duster and what looked like a steel wool bra. She waved and came bounding toward me. I instinctively cowered.
“I hope you don’t mind, dear, but I straightened up a little. I just thought, in your condition, you needed a nice, clean place to relax. You don’t mind, do you?”
She looked genuinely concerned, like she’d broken the cardinal rule of the faceless neighbour. I didn’t respond straight away. I was still entranced by the state of my apartment. It looked immaculate. I wanted to run my tongue over every surface. Not only wasn’t I angry, but I wanted to pick Rhonda up and kiss her. I wanted to hold her close and thank her again and again. “No… I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. Thank you.”
She beamed a relieved smile. “I’m so happy you’re not angry. I didn’t even think about what I was doing. I just saw a mess and had to clean it. Ask Vince. I do it all the time. I think I have a touch of the obsessive compulsives when it comes to this.”
“This must have taken you hours.”
“Not really. I have the whole cleaning game down to a fine art. You break it down into quadrants and just attack it. If you get better, I’ll teach you…” As those last words escaped her mouth, she took a few steps backward. “I’m so, so sorry, Bruce. I didn’t mean to say ‘if’. I meant ‘when’. When you get better.”
I brushed it off. “It’s okay.’ I stared at her. “I’m probably not going to get better. That’s just the way it is. I’ll be fine. People get cancer every day.” I walked to my armchair, embracing the absence of clutter that usually blocked my path. I let my body fall and the cushions kissed me. “Would you like something to drink, Rhonda?”
“No, dear. It’s fine. I was actually going to invite you to eat with Vince and I. I’m making Baked Meal tonight. There will be more than enough.”
“You’ve already done enough. It’s fine. Think I’ll probably have an early one, but thank you, Rhonda. I mean it.”
She walked toward me and gave me a peck on the forehead. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s strange to
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