Clean forgotten


– Where are your glassedirtylenses-fulls, mum?

– I lent them to one of the prison warders.

– Which one?

– The fat one with the dirty hair. Susan.

– Are you sure that’s her name?

– I think so. Why?

– Well that’s my name, mum.

– Oh yes. Of course. Well, she’s the one with the dirty hair.

– What colour?

– She’s white.

– No. Her hair. What colour is her hair?

– Brown. Or black. Something like that. Dark anyway. Dirty.

– Ok. I’ll ask the nurses in a minute.

– Oh. Do they have nurses here as well? That’s nice.

– Yes, mum. It is nice.

– I don’t trust them, mind.

– I know, mum.

– They steal things, you know.

– Well, I know you lose things. Your glasses, for instance.

– Yes. That’s because they steal them, Susan.

– And is that why you took the string?

– What string?

– The string you took from the post office.

– Well, if I don’t tie things down, they go missing, don’t they?

– Hm. I expect that’s what the man in the post office thought too.

– I didn’t like him. He was dirty.

– No he wasn’t, mum. He was very kind.

– He was very dirty. I know that.

– No mum. He was Asian.

– They should have separate prisons for the Asians.

– You’re not actually in prison, mum. Luckily for you. Nor is he.

– Well he should be.

– Are you sure you haven’t tied you glasses to something?

– Why would I do that?

– To stop the prison warders from stealing them?

– Don’t treat me like an idiot, Susan.

– Well you did tie your radio to the sink. Remember that?

– Oh you do talk rubbish. Why don’t you go and do some work?

– I’ll go in a while. Have you looked in your cabinet?

– I can’t see very well, can I? I need glasses.

– I’ll have a look for… What on earth are your knickers doing in here?

– They’re dirty.

– Oh God! Why haven’t you put them in the washing basket?

– I don’t want the guards rummaging through my underwear.

– They’re nurses, mum. In any case, they don’t do the washing.

– I know. They’re dirty.


© Gerry Webber 2015

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