Today the salt-pig gave me Love Journal…!!!

Love, a Journal*

Sunday faintly hung over we stayed in bed till late, ate the remains of what I’d made for Saturday’s supper from the food you’d bought Friday, it was still good.
Monday you jumped out of bed to take out the trash before the midge-truck came, made coffee while you were about it and brought it up to me.
Tuesday the sun came out unexpectedly so we abandoned work and went to the coast where you fished for fish and I for poems. We listened to world music on the radio as you drove home delighting at the throat singing.
Wednesday I tried not to wake you as I dressed for an early meeting from which I brought you home a new cheese and almost melted because you loved it.
Thursday you prepared the potato bed while I laundered, we went out for burgers, though we can ill afford it.
Friday you worked all day on a new song, I on a poem, and to celebrate drank the rest of a bottle of wine your brother brought the week before.
Saturday we talked all morning, you said you’d been thinking of space, and we agreed we were glad that together we occupied this one.

*I think Mayer’s idea here is to devote a journal to the concept of love, which I am never going to do, so I’ve condensed to a single, imaginary week.

Published by Eryl Gasper Dick

I am an artist and writer living in southwest Scotland. I freelance as a Literature Ambassador (for Wigtown Festival Co. who run the Scottish Book Town); as a creative writing teacher; and a content provider, populating people's websites and marketing materials with perfectly honed, clear sentences. When I'm not gadding about supporting writers, lit events, businesses, and students I write fiction, non-fiction, and the odd poem. I avidly believe that creativity is the answer to the problem.

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    1. Thanks Madame Mow.
      ‘The weight of many funerals’ is such a sad phrase, and so apposite.
      I do wish I was better at condensing and am hoping this daily practise will help.


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