trying not to think

My mother is arriving later for a (self-invited, announced by answerphone message) visit. I am not happy about this, but must admit to a certain curiosity. I’m torn between refusing to open the door, and wanting desperately to know whether she’ll even acknowledge what happened on their last visit.
 

I rang Jim at work to tell him this. His response: I’ll come home late, then.  Thanks, that was the final straw.  It’s over, isn’t it?  I can’t deal with him not dealing.
 
(Neighbour has promised to be in garage within earshot, just in case; kids will be warned and can choose to go somewhere else.)
 

 

V (Victor) “I require assistance.”

 
I might just go and knit up a quick flag…

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