In Her Warmth

In Her Warmth

       By Dipsomaniac Dougy Dodo

                        poke your finger on a thorn

                        pierce the foreskin of your horn

                        pinch the tender tender corn

                        peel the skin of a sunburn

Pricks irritate us all. They act as a corrosive. Fleetingly, they drive us to attempt some sort of retaliation, or even revenge. They establish goodwill between no two objects, two subjects, two organisms, or two partners. Here is a story to illustrate each of these dwillings. A chair and a mouse sat opposite one another, unaware, for the most part, of each other’s presence. The chair sate, willing something, unable to speak. She sent out bright messages to the surrounding air calling to the molecular world to interact: to swim near; to flond the paint chips; to ruffle the waist of corduroy about the seat; to sift dust into the still new crack by the back rest; to light up her corner of the living room with blue swell. She attempted to move over a little so the rocker might find space near her, but her arthritis seemed stronger today and it interfered enough that she decided to make the move a little later. Music dafted the corner by the outside door over which draped green viands of plastic, since a holiday season had arrived. A saxophone bellowed, bells shook, two tambourines played in harmony “The Rising of St Eustace.” Much preparation had been made in the kitchen. The chair took in all these particulars, especially absorbing the flavors of the wine-mouse, the cake extraordinare, and the various meat dishes steaming over the element. On this particular, festive Saturday. A door banged often, people leaving and coming as they did with friends to taste things or goods to deliver or bring away. A cold day, the draft had begun to affect the chair, and she shivered.

       A mouse saw the discomfort and said to himself that help would not be wasted on her. He set to work, and before long had taken, bit by bit, a set of scarves, gloves, mittens, caps, leggings, towels and various implements of warmth over to the suffering object and covered her with so many layers that soon she glowed warm and happy. In the process of this mission, though, the mouse stepped upon the top rung, in getting up a red pair of knickers stolen from the eleven-year-old Cindy’s room, right onto a sliver fresh from the cat’s sharpening of claws. The sliver stung and bothered the mouse so that before long she left the vicinity of the chair feeling hard done by. The chair tried to speak and explain, but the music being turned up quite loudly, the mouse did not hear. So, they parted company and in her warmth the chair felt lonely.

       A microbe of indeterminate age swam up the side of the sink in a neat, pink bathroom and saw that he was not alone. Nearby, another living organism busied herself with her toilette, careful not to drop her parings and follicles on the shiny porcelain surface. She hoarded these and placed them in a neat pile to be later discarded in the waste. When the first individual noticed the preparations and had watched for some time, he sidled up to the second and spoke to her with invitation in his tone.

       “Dear, may I give you a hand with whatever you are up to?” he kindly inquired, smiling reassurance that he meant her no harm. Hardly had he given out his intentions of helpful willingness than the other person turned and frowned and asked him to move over. The space needed no one else to crowd it.

       “But, I wish only to help. I’m feeling rather too solitary and could use a little company!” The water dripped above them and the gurgling in the pipes reminded them of the tenuousness of their brief sojourn on the planet. He would not take no for an answer and began to gather up the bits of nail and hair in order to cart them away. She, miffed and offended at his persistence, stepped over to him and poked him with a small pin that she carried for just these times. He winced, stopped, dropped what he held, and hit her twice over the brow before retreating into he dark hole from which he had originated. There, he planned a fitting response and soon the two found themselves engaged in a quarrel that their offspring carried on as a feud between the two families for many generations afterwards, until a marriage between three of their children brought about a temporary truce and the two sides eventually forgot the business that initially set them against each other.

(To be continued)