Human Company

Sometimes, I am fairly sure that it is only the little things that really count. The candle on the window sill that has to be lined up just right to keep it all symmetrical, flowing. A crease in a carpet, a curtain hanging a little too the side, one glass slightly out of line - these things that nobody ever seems to notice. But isn't it obvious?

If you entered a room which had been left in a state of utter disarray, would you attempt to rearrange everything; or just the little things first. Perhaps just lining up a book beside a mirror or turning a lamp just so could make the difference. But perhaps not.

People can't relate to me. I do not understand why. I approached a lady just the other day. She was ambling across the road, with one of those little trollies rattling along behind her. Old people's bags. And around her neck was strung a dainty pearl necklace just so. Every fourth pearl was about two millimeters larger than those in-between. Except for the sixteenth which didn't fit the pattern at all. Slightly out of shape, quite too small, it had adopted a greenish tinge. In my opinion, quite distasteful. But when i approached this lady, to inform her of this delinquent pearl, she swore at me and biffed me with her trolley. An overall disagreeable experience.

I haven't spoken to anyone since. That was four days last Tuesday and that is quite a long time to avoid making conversation. I have sat in this same little room with the candle on the windowsill leaning against the mantlepiece observing the crease in the carpet. This crease has begun to lure me into to its absurd, yet seductive hold. I can't say it's unpleasant - much nicer than human company.

The End

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