Letters to My Sister (No. 4 Tarred & Feathered Duckie)

You missed the best of the rain.  You were stuck inside cuddled up.  Me, I was in the hills.  I drove to Stanage Edge and it didn’t start kicking it down til I left the Nova parked all alone.

“The rain was cathartic, until it washed the world away”

You know that ain’t me Sis.  That’s from one of the songs Erfin wrote for his band.  It makes me think of cafeters .  I really thought I would just drive to new places on this trip, but I find the wheel turns back to old haunts.  It’s probably not even raining where you are, usually it would be snow, but there’s not been much this year has there?

Got a bad taste in my mouth.  I think it’s tar.  When the sweet leaves are gone, it’s just tar.

Finally worked out how to charge my phone, had a few messages.  Fliss babbling about me not returning sommat she leant me (has she even noticed I’m properly gone?).  One from Oxo asking why I’d not been in touch about the game.  He calls me dude.  I quite like that.  I think if I told him I was just free-wheeling about the North, he’d like it.  He was saying that old thing the other day bout how he needed to get out of Nottingham.  It’s almost a fucking cliché.  And yet I lap up owt he says.  Miss you like a misdemeanour.

I thought I’d get away from all the petty shit, but now I’m out of the loop I worry.  Like the couple in the upstairs flat with their screaming rows, I do worry he’s really belted her one this time.  And despite her telling me to mind my own (when I asked if she needed my help), I still worry.  Cos I know she’s alright really, she’s jus mental.

I did some odd-jobbing for cash yesterday.  And cos it’s the busy season, I’ve found if you ask in the pubs, they’ll throw the odd shift at you.  It won’t last though.  Sometime I’ll have to go home.  If only for dollar.

Still raining.  Love you Sis.

Little Rue xx


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