I found myself reading the comments today. The great respond machine that I am. The fury, the gall, the disagreement. Most of all, I wanted to say “I don’t know what you mean”. Rest, procrastinate, waste, rest, avoid, relax, dream.

The rules of Five Dice are simple:

1 – Talk about five dice
2 – Play five dice

The IT guy is easy to talk to, he’s taking a course in counselling. He’s got a relatively unsupportive ex. But he loves his daughter very much. The tattoo on his arm, is the sound-wave of her, saying her own name.

It looks like a pulse.

It looks, like the mountainscape.

If I look at the mountains, if I make it a silhouette in my minds eye. The grey stone. The blue sky. I can trace the line.

But what, what does that line say..?

Many of us are living longer lives. But are we living more meaningful lives? More purposeful lives? More worthwhile, interconnected, and happy lives?

It would be interesting to measure.

There are more of us. Sure! So, perhaps the accumulative total happiness is higher. The total hours lived would be up there – if not the most ever. So much life, so many eyes, all facing perfectly away. Quick glances at a market, before returning to our chilled hotel rooms. Stuffing down a lonely banana or blueberry muffin and going restlessly to sleep. Alone.

“Hello, welcome – how can we help you today?”

Hi, a table for one if that’s possible.

“Yeah sure, in a booth or at a table?”

I don’t mind, dealers choice.

“Ok, so we had a booth for you just around the corner here…”

Perfect

“Ok, here we are enjoy your meal”

Thanks

-leaving me to sit, she turns and announces to the bar: “I feel really sick, I gotta go!”

She rushes outside, and vomits on the lawn.

I am concerned, impressed by her low cut top and professionalism.

Your mind is the garden.

Your thoughts are the seeds.

The harvest can be either: flowers or weeds.

-W.W

A garden is always a series of losses set against a few triumphs, like life itself.

-M.S

‘Patrick, calling Paaaaaatick’, please present yourself at the check in desk. The American accent rang out over the PA. Interrupting an uncharacteristic flurry of emails. Putting his laptop away and swiftly slinging his bag over his shoulder, he presented to the front desk. ‘Good morning, I’m Patrick’ he said. Calmly, expectantly. ‘Oh, hello sir, I have a family that we’re trying to seat together, would you be happy to move… we currently have you sitting in Seat 8A—’

‘Yes, put me anywhere,’ he cut in.

‘Thankyou sir,’ said the flight attendant.

Patrick smiled, and patiently waited for his ticket, noticing first the flight attendants stubble and then his stigmatism. The flight attendant continued. ‘Thankyou sir, their child has down syndrome,’ the attendant added.

‘Yeah… mmm,’ said Patrick.

I went to Paddlefish –

For dinner with view.

The first table was average

So, I tried a few.

The setting was four –

Then three, then two.

The clams were good,

With warm bread, to chew.

I sat by my lonesome.

And thought of my crew.

It was a world without her, until Rene’s birth.
Tough times without her. Sans, Rene – you could say!
Until one day, for hap’ and for mirth.
There she was poppled, all swaddled and gay.

Her parents they sigh, with exhausted relief.
A child, of calm, and cheer – all beauty, no beast.
No need to chide, only coo and cheer.
And she lit up with smiles from ear-to-ear.

The family name was a glorious thing.
‘Sans’ they were called. Like sand with no ‘N’.
Solemn they reflected on lost baby Chance –
Their second and only was Rene. Rene-Sans.

How is it that you can start a stopwatch but you cannot stop a start watch?

Unless you’re Italian?