To Scream or not to Scream.

Outside my bedroom window, it is a balmy twenty four degrees. Both windows are wide open, but fail to catch even the merest cooling breeze. I lay there, eyelids heavy, tired, feeling like death, my body aching and in dire need of rest. I had been dozing, my mind drifting thankfully into that subconscious state it craves if only to blot out the aches and pains  in my bones. I stare at the opposite wall. How I hate that wallpaper! A dog barks, a small dog by the sounds of it for its a ‘yap’ rather than a bark.

My body feels every bump and lump in both pillow and mattress. I turn over on my side, trying to find comfort. Someone outside laughs out loud, a raucous laugh. I wish I could swop places with the person laughing, for that is the last thing I feel like doing. Slowly I begin to doze again, my mind drifting off into some whirling thought, anything to take me away from where I am. Suddenly there is a scream. A girls scream, not far away from my window. A man shouts some unintelligible word out loud. The girl screams again. I resist the urge to get up and go over to peer out of the window and scream out loud myself. I simply think to myself, as I always do whenever someone screams outside,

‘It’s to be hoped that they are never being murdered, because no one will ever go to investigate, seeing as we are all so used to listening to screams all day!’ and I abandon all hope of respite and go off to the kitchen and make a cup of tea.

TG