2-14:On the road to nowhere
Daisy Penfolde turned from the swings and walked away, trying to ignore her daughter’s squeals of delight as she ran to Caroline Rook’s waiting arms…
She felt numb, but all things considered, that was at least something. With her legs on automatic, she moved through quiet streets without even the tears to mourn the loss of her child.
Do you forgive me?
Eva had answered the question, said it wasn’t her fault, and such it was. Daisy couldn’t help the jumps, she couldn’t help what had happened. Couldn’t help…
She felt a nagging worry: why had she resisted the Sisterhood in the first place?
It seemed a distraction, but this act was at the core of the events of the last few hours… of her whole existence: Why had she resisted?
And the road stretched onward.
She heard the crackle of dead leaves and felt the dirt beneath her feet as she walked, barely noticed weeds and dandelions growing up through the cracks in the road and pavement. What was it Smith had said? Something about the area North of the border being ungoverned.
It looked perfectly fine to her.
Unexpectedly she craved a cigarette and a coffee, but neither were to hand. Realising this was just another distraction, she kept walking.
The problem of why she had resisted still remained. She considered the possibility that it could have been a future jump, one where she was trying to avert the mistakes of the past.
‘And that helped the last time didn’t it,’ she said, her voice sharp and sarcastic in the silence.
She stopped momentarily. Self-hate for the events of the past was a waste of time and energy. She couldn’t change the events of the past…
But she could though. The last time had been an utter disaster. If she’d kept her mouth shut and just observed things might not have turned out the way they had. That reality was one bad decision after another though.
Another thought rose: why had Elvis been in the cafe waiting for her? Was it a predetermined meeting-point? She had walked into it quite by accident… or perhaps more likely on automatic.
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There are a few ways to describe one's self when effectively trying to mask the fact that you're a complete hermit and spend your entire existence behind a computer screen sipping hot tea and eating cakes. The first would be to suggest that you're somewhat introverted and avoid coffee. Another might be to suggest you're a fan of Apple Macs but are cutting-down from the 6 you used to have to an even two (Macbook and Mac Mini in turn). Finally you might choose to say that despite the massive pay-drop, this writing thing is quite a lark isn't it? Not to mention enjoying the creative life a lot more than mindless tedium in corporate jobs, working the 40 hour week to the drumming of endless meetings and political intrigue that would have made Machiavelli blush and hand his pen over to the corporate slugs that run companies these days. Enough said really.
