By Adam Taylor-Smith
I’ve been dragging this one around with me for a week now and it’s really starting to annoy me. It’s not like the others, it clings on to my trouser leg and moans and bites my shin.
It’s not fully formed yet. It’s in some sort of premature state and I don’t like to look at it directly because it’s ugly and upsetting. There’s something horribly wrong and it makes me feel uncomfortable.
I can’t kick it off, run away from it and leave it crying and pounding the floor because there are rules against that sort of thing. Besides, I don’t want it to beat me.
After nurturing it for hours it’s given me nothing in return. It’s been so demanding of my attention I’ve neglected the others even though they’re so much nicer to be around. They bounce and glide along next to me, occasionally giving me a friendly nip on the ear. They shape shift fluidly, getting more defined each time I choose to take hold of one and play with it for an hour or two. Why cant this one be more like them?
I know I need to completely ignore it for a bit, but that’s easier said than done. I’m desperately waiting for it to tire itself out and fall asleep. When it wakes there’s a chance it will have grown and matured slightly. Then it might be a little bit easier on the eye.