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Monday, 11 March 2013

Sunday's Child


Tiny flakes of snow swirl outside the office window as if someone is shredding paper just out of sight, throwing handfuls of spreadsheet-printed confetti into the whirling, freezing air.

I sign up for a restaurant discount voucher – tomorrow I am going out with a friend who always includes the phrase “somewhere cheap to eat” in our planning conversations. I put my date of birth in and realise that I am a Sunday’s Child. Somehow it fits.

I don’t understand where the snow goes; it doesn’t settle and I can’t see melted drops anywhere.

Naturally he is a Wednesday Child, my polar opposite. It’s odd that we match so well, even in our mismatch.

The fan heater in my office battles against the chill coming from the window. I know I am getting old because I have an office cardigan; it waits for me, draped over the back of my chair, for days like this.

We spent Sunday afternoon battling, even when we tried not to. It was just one of those days when we’re both trying to achieve the same thing but it feels like we’re opposites; Sunday vs Wednesday.

I’m glad we had our fire alarm test last week, when it seemed that spring was round the corner. That day we stood in the sunshine, joking about fetching coats and saving people from the invisible fire. The reflective jackets of the fire wardens were unwelcome then but today they’d be a dash of brightness in a day that is grey-white.

Today we both battle against Monday. It’s a common enemy which makes us band together; a necessary alliance. Sometimes we forget that we signed the treaty, nine years ago now, and we need these fights to make us realise that we’re on the same side.

I hope the crocuses are not shocked by the weather. I like their pale purple silk, stretching up to the feeble sun. For now the snow has stopped. I wonder if it’s snowing outside his office window.



Monday's Child is fair of face
Tuesday's Child is full of grace
Wednesday's Child is full of woe
Thursday's Child has far to go
Friday's Child is loving and giving
Saturday's Child works hard for a living
And the Child that is born on the Sabbath day
is bonny and blithe and good and happy.

3 comments:

Chef Files said...

Not to sure about the childer that are born on the sabbath. Methinks Lucifer himself was present at my birth.

Nice post again hen.

Mannix said...

What a lovely scene you paint. I cannot say whether I'm Wednesday child or not but the "full of woe" part does tend to match my personality. That being the case, I bet the sun is shining bright outside his window. You being opposites and all.

Ellie said...

Like Mannix, my Wednesday birth is erroneous. I'm certainly not woeful. I have even been called 'party girl' (rolls eyes).

I like your descriptive style. And i know about those days when battles with the other one are just inevitable no matter how much you want to avoid the battling.