Oh Percy


pressed grey suit
pristine  shirt
perfect tie
pon his head he wore a hat
Percival Peppertan  looked anything but playful
posing and pompous Percival couldn’t see what the fuss was all about
people that
passed by snickered , he thought them
pathetic and rude
promoting the company that he worked for
Percival allowed himself to
peacefully through the streets
publicly, mind you and certainly not being
paid any extra, but simply for the love of their new spectacle range and he cared not if they
provoked him and said he looked stupid
Percival, was chosen, though he was considered the most
practical and
probably the most lifeless
person in the company, but he was excited at the
prospect they had
presented him with, the chance for
pedestrians to admire the new fashionable eye-wear and delighted at the
project, for alas Percival was quite a boring soul, but now, oh yes now with these, he let lose a little
providing himself with a new found freedom of himself, to be carefree and not so
possibly beneath the pompousness his watchful eyes allowed him to see a whole new world


Anonymous Legacy: VisDare 24: Mastermind anonymouslegacy.blogspot.com

Another brilliant photo from the Team –  but this was tough for me – so I looked on the light side – with my brain ticking over time..

How does one speak with a drill in their mouth?

Yes, that moment when I am almost completely silent.

When I have to have an injection and feel my mouth and lips swell which gives me the appearance of a stroke sufferer.

When I know that it will be a couple of hours before I can actually hold a drink to my lips without slobbering it down my chin or having to tilt my head on a side to try and retain some of the fluid in my mouth.

When I have the assistant holding the sucker almost down my throat.

When I have a bite block to help me keep my mouth open so I don’t bite off the Dentists hand.

When I have the Dentist drilling and spraying my back tooth like there’s no tomorrow.

When I have to breathe through my nose slowly, or even raise my legs one at a time so I don’t gag and vomit whilst having a mould shoved in my mouth.

When I have the bib unceremoniously wiped across my face to mop it down from water spray that you swore is emitted from a fire hose.

When even the glasses they get you to wear require windscreen wipers.

When they tell you “We are going to use the noisy one now” – which in layman’s terms is the burr drill that makes your whole body feel it is being racked by a jack-hammer from the insides.

When they say  “You can rinse now” and you are lucky that your spit actually hits the bowl of circling water and doesn’t spray their floor or shoes.

When throughout the ordeal they ask “How was your day” or “How are the girls”?

The only answer is “urgh”..

**My Memoir The Empty Nest A Mother’s Hidden Grief is now available on Amazon and Lulu (J M Kadane)**