Click!

[poliphilo]

Some men in masks board an underground train. A woman is tracking them. They carry identical attache cases. Are they suicide bombers? They catch sight of her. She punches the alarm. All hell breaks loose.

And my mother switches the TV off.

As I expected she would. Anything too fruity; click. Anything unfamiliar: click. Her remote, her rules.

"I don't know what that was," she says in an affronted tone.

"Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D" I say.

"How on earth do you know?"

"Because they just told us."

We've had variants on this conversation many times before. Only now there's a difference. It's not that she won't pay attention, it's that she can't.

I find it hard to accept that we've crossed that line.

Comments

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I've taken steps to avoid becoming a couch potato. Last time we were home I got rid of the TV.

I miss Jackie.

[arielstarshadow.livejournal.com]

I miss her, too.

[chochiyo-sama.livejournal.com]

I miss her as well. I was just thinking of her the other day and wishing I had one of her lovely posts to read about rotting raccoons or a plastic doll found in a hedge or about what was blooming in the garden.

I hope she is having an utterly amazing afterlife--perhaps as a garden fairy.

[athenais.livejournal.com]

I miss her a lot. She told such wonderful stories, I am still sad they are all finished now.