Turtle Neck Sweaters

The sand, the time of year, for the turtle neck sweater dear. What she says. He is losing his mind, has been saying things off the cuff, she nods. She is a care worker, he is the cared for, a resident of the Old Persons home, where she works. She has a job to do, she begins to fix the bed, tightening the blankets, fixing the pillows, move she says, he leans forward, she pumps up the pillow, pads it out some, done, he leans in. Turtle Neck Sweater time he says again, he’s loosing his mind she thinks, but he is old, she smiles, Yes it is she answers.

By the tone of voice, he knows that she is being kind, listening to the fading words of an ageing being, Yes he says, it is that time again. The perfume she wears brings back the memories, a time before she existed, he’d go into the detail with her but she has other rooms to clean, and he doesn’t want to hold her up. That perfume, reminds him of old conversations while in the prime of life, an exciting life too. No ailments then, everything functioning. He considers himself blessed for the ability to walk to the bathroom and pee standing up. Stuff you never consider when your young, like those turtle neck sweaters.

The room is his alone, she has moved on, another duty to perform. He’d been watching a program, David Attenbury he thinks was the name, an English posh talker who is passionately interested in saving a particular type of turtle, interesting program. He enjoys programs that keep him interested. Anyway he thought, the mother Turtle lays her eggs, buries them in the sand on this small island and goes back to sea, while she and thousands of other potential mothers, leave their brood to hatch under the sand until the time came, before emerging from the shell, then making it up to the open air, where a fifty yard dash awaits them to the sea, along with an enormous number of hungry birds, waiting to devour them. The odds of any one of them making it to the sea, and the continuation of their journey, 1,000 to one at best. He called the mother turtle, the turtle necked sweater, given the chances of her off spring ever making a life for themselves. She didn’t understand me he sighs, and he didn’t want to steal her time.

Solomon sighed, how nature teaches us of the perils of life and the difficulties we all have to encounter if we are ever to make our mark. What else could he do, but ponder the greater mysteries. A meeting with the divine awaited him and the day was getting closer. So many live locked in their minds, surrounded by all that went wrong, holding on to what he wondered, while so many others took advantage of that same hurt in them. Turtle neck sweater, he smiles, that perfume, as fresh as ever, amen.


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