The Sparkle in His Eyes

The Sparkle in His Eyes

My neighbour's eyes are still sparkling as far as I know after seeing Liz in all her glory although he's kept well away, but that's not unusual as we don't live in each others pockets. My superior half returned to the mother land of Canberra from the deep north and I had an acute dread that 'her indoors' would nip in next door and the beans would be spilled. A enormous sink hole would then open up and devour me into Hades.

Of course into next door my angel trotted for a cosy chat and Hades awaited my arrival. All that dread which had so consumed me never eventuated, and why should it?

It's part of the lifelong story what we dread doesn't exist, it's all in the mind, the dread of what might be.