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Feeling achey…

Full moon at an observatory in Australia. Photo credit unknown.

Yesterday I had an appointment in Bournemouth, which is not very far away. I took the bus, and I returned by bus. I always leave my home by my back door, which has now become a terrible ordeal for me. My neighbours on that side seem to be very unpleasant people. They have trespassed in my garden, shouted at me that they rent the land behind their rear gates. They hung windchimes, which are as close to my kitchen window as mine. I can hear these windchimes all over my house apart from my bedroom. I thank God that my study is in my bedroom.

These windchimes are a very high pitch, and they cause me indescribable pain. I have acute hearing, rarely go the cinema, and avoid certain music. There are sounds which leave me curled up in pain. And my neighbours windchimes leave me exhausted from nerve pain, and they refuse to take them down,

So after my appointment in Bournemouth, I met up with a slam poet. I thought she would be around thirty or more, and when she arrived she looked about 25 but turned out to be 18. We chatted, she had looked up some of my published poetry and articles. She was impressed. I asked her to read some hers, and it was good. She won’t come to poetry evenings because they are in places that serve alcohol. She chooses to wear a hijab, which I respect, but I asked her why she made this choice. She told me why and I thought we had a discussion of equals, and she certainly gave no indication of being upset. Later on, in the evening, I answered a phone call I thought was from her. It was the girl’s mother attacking me for – well I don’t know what really. When the mother took a breath, I told her she had no business with me, but only her daughter had. I ended the call, and felt very upset. First that the girl had been upset (II still don’t know.), but mainly because she had gone behind my back. She had talked about a private conversation and permitted her mother to use her phone in order to make me think I knew the caller. I was devastated.

First, I am not in the habit of trying to upset other people. Second, this girl seeks to be treated like an adult, which she is, but then goes home and apparently behaves like a child. Then she allowed her mother to deceive me. If this young woman had at all indicated that she was uncomfortable with our conversation I would have stopped immediately and asked her forgiveness. I cannot bear to hurt or offend others.

So I feel achey today. My editing suite is not happy with ‘achey‘ but offers no solutions. My head and body ache from the very tiring journey home in stop start traffic jams, combined with the sound of the windchimes.

Tell me, how is your day going?

@purbeckpoet Instagram

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by madswirl.com and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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