The Patient

I have no idea what happens when I turn my back. I sleep through everything. It is quite stupid how I never open my eyes. The carpet is luscious. The blossom at the window is spectacular. I try to keep them apart. There are more grown-ups than I know what to do with. I have a different Darling for each one. I inflect it. I miss everything — the haunted wardrobe, the bald landlady, the slurring woman crashing up and down the stairs, Look after her, Look after her, Pierrot with his little spoon.