Write about your favourite hobby!

My name is Aggie and my favourite thing to do is sit in Handsworth park (Birmingham) with my blue binoculars and my pencil set. It’s my favourite place to go and my favourite thing to do. I will always ask politely if my friends want to come with me (it’s only a 14 minute walk away) but hey: they have other hobbies like playing PlayStation or cleaning the rabbit hutch. I get it.

I live in a care home you see, so I have plenty of friends.

I sit in different spot every time I visit. But it has to be a busy spot; because I’m looking for fruit. A specific kind of fruit. L O V E fruits. When I used to walk with my Grandad in the park and we saw two people kissing he would say that they “were getting fruity”. I love watching people kiss. Grandad would tell me off for staring but I how can you stop watching fruity love shakes, a love fruit salad, fruity love-sickles!

Oh Love is beautiful, it’s gorgeous, it’s life, it’s everything. Love is all around. It is electric it is happy it makes me... smile! I go to the park every afternoon after lessons so I can stare at lesbians snogging, boyfriends holding hands. Dogs humping each other’s behinds and old people patting each others bottoms.

There’s kids there too, younger than me! Sharing a naughty look while going halfsys on a cigarette. Pretending to sunbathe but its just an excuse to take their clothes off for each other. As juicy as the flesh of a peach. As delicious as cherry pulp. I stare at these fruity encounters all afternoon through the lenses of my blue binoculars. And I take notes. Sometimes drawings.

My favourite couple to stare at are always sitting by the pond on a Friday. She’s there first and he comes to meet her. She always looks amazing: killer heels, fishnet tights and her gigantic boobies sit beautifully on her chest. He probably touches them when they are alone. I wish I could see it! She is a fat woman with fantastic gold hair. She takes up half the bench. She is so confident and glamorous. I want to hold her large hips and dance with her underneath a disco ball!

He’s great too. So dapper, always wearing a checked suit. a proper gentleman. He holds her hand and they flirt for ages. Squeezing each others thighs and whispering into each others ears. He looks a lot older than her. But I don’t mind. Love isn’t bound by age, gender or race. Loves just love. They always share a cigarette and after a while he always hands her a white envelope. I’d say it was probably a love letter. Then they walk out the park to a house just opposite the entrance. Probably to cook a romantic meal. They really love each other those two.

I’m so jealous.

23rd March 2020 I’ve been told to keep a diary. I’m not anxious, just bored.

Maybe I should buy a meditative healing stone.

24th I’ve been looking through the amazon reviews for salt crystal lamps today.

I’ve been fired. Not in a bad way. They knew I wasn’t really enjoying the job so this works for both of us.

Salt crystal lamps have healing properties so you’ve got to spend a bit of money on them to ensure they’re genuine.

I still feel, mortifyingly, fired.

25th It’s sunny outside.

I lay in a fetal position on the carpet all day watching Eastenders. The carpet was comforting. I had a great day.

26th THE FLAT BELOW AREN’T QUARANTINING. I KNOW only two people live there and there’s fucking 4 of them in the garden right now. People are dying. Fucking disgraceful.

P.s I bought the lamp. Paid extra for amazon prime.

Friday 27th Yesterday I wrote a strongly worded letter to the bottom flat and left it on their windscreen wiper. I hope they get the message. Total idiots.

My ethically sourced, 100% pure salt crystal lamp will arrive next Friday due to COVID delivery issues. Bit annoying.

28th Instagram, Twitter, Facebook all I see every day is anxiety busting tricks tips and games... I’m not anxious. Just bored.

And angry. And tired. I haven’t done anything but lay on the couch, but I feel so tired. I also feel smelly, stagnant, emotional and a bit fucking fed up. Just uninspired. My eyes hurt and I keep sweating.

31st My flat mate is leaning over our balcony and playing drinking games with the criminals from bottom floor.

1st May I ended up playing with them. Turns out all four of them do actually live there.

They think the middle floor left the note.

3rd I took a walk today. I walked for nearly an hour.

Three teens where sitting in the grass laughing. I don’t think they were from the same house and to be honest it’s doesn’t matter, sitting is not exactly exercise.

I stared at them practically snarling with disapproval until they got up and made tracks. As I turned away I bumped into a jogger with her dog. She apologised and touched my arm!

Bought 3 different types of hand sanitiser on my way home to disinfect that woman’s stupidity! I also bought pukka tea. I couldn’t decide if I should buy a peace tea, a clarity blend (with hemp) or if I just wanted a bog standard chamomile. I ended up buying all three.

I drank too much tea, I can’t sleep and I keep weeing.

Maybe those laughing teenagers were the kind of kids with toxic family dynamics.

7th

My head hurts imagining a variety of different home life scenarios with chaos and anger. Some with worse.

My eyes feel heavy and dry. Dark coraline circles buttoned on my white, spotty skin.

My lamp arrived. I’ve already repackaged it with a return label. I hate it.

Thirteen months ago, both Matriarchs were given a clue, Phones buzzed, could the news be true? Nine thousand kilometres across the sea, Jan and Ellen decided to share their family tree

Before our minds could process, Our letterbox held inspiration for french summer dress. Ellen’s organisation, (an inherently German trait), caused Jan to look lovingly at his soul mate... (her perfect spreadsheets always did quicken his heart rate).

Christmas was the time for the elders to meet, Within St George’s stone walls, a union made complete Ellen and Jan have an impeccable gift, to give any room one great big lift. Lady Obama said ‘truly powerful people bring others together’ aided by Basil gin smash, dancing and good weather

This is true for Ellen and Jan friends too a wolf pack eternally bound together by glue Present and forgiving through life's lows and highs, Wonderful people have wonderful allies.

Our beloved pair are not hard to spot with athletic arms, and conditioned blonde locks, Two pairs of long legs, to dance elegantly through life, Interrupted only by low ceilings, door frames, and Jan’s height amusing his new wife

Jokes aside this fierce woman has taught me a lot Two decades of friendship have woven us into a pretty tight love knot She loves with integrity, and without being thwarted,
I am still coddled, over indulged and unconditionally supported

Dolly Alderton once said “Love is a quiet, reassuring, relaxing, pottering, pedantic, harmonious, hum of a thing; something you can easily forget is there, even though its palms are outstretched in case you fall.”

Ellen’s palms have always stretched far Confident, reliable and firm I am overjoyed that Jan’s palms are held out for her in return.

“Sophie, Sophie!” My friend Jem exclaimed, interrupting our enriching conversation regarding prostates and male G-spots. “Yes?” I said. “That girl looks EXACTLY like you. Look!” All four of us turned around in our seats. We were in a central London Weather Spoons for a catch up.

“Omg, she so, so does” gawked Ella. “That is weird”. I scanned the busy room and finally spotted my twin at the bar, ordering a pint of Guinness (my exact drink of choice)! “Go and get her Soph” slurred Pheobe, who had already ordered her second bottle of wine. “She could be our new best friend. Hehe.” They all looked at me expectantly.

“No. No. No Way. I never wanted a twin. I’mmmm the only Sophie in the village.” Pheobe hiccuped and grabbed some ice from the wine bucket to top up her glass. “What were you saying about your ‘experiment gone wrong’, Jem?” I swiftly brought their attention back to bedroom antics before they invited the poor girl over. Pheobe snorted. “Oh yeah, so what happened was...”

I glanced at her a couple of times throughout the rest of the night. It was fascinating. Is that what I really look like? I looked at myself on my phone screensaver and compared it to my doppelgänger. I wondered what her parents look like and if we would get on. We left the bar and I turned to look at her one last time but she was gone.

A year later and I’m back here in the same weather spoons with work this time. A few of us decided to grab a well deserved wind-down pint before heading home. We walk towards the bar and I slow down, distracted. A man was shouting my name. “Sophie! Sophie”. I keep walking while scouring the crowd trying to find a familiar face. My journey came to a halt as I bumped into a couple embracing. “Oops, so sorry” I said. “No problem” muttered a tanned Enrique Iglesias type guy, before he turned back to face his girlfriend.

I didn’t start walking again. His girlfriend was my look alike! That one, that time with the girls - the one Jem pointed out. This time I didn’t take my eyes off her. She was my exact copy. Same height, same smile, same fashion sense. And same name?! “Sophie” the Spanish man cooed. “I’ve missed you, my darling”.

I stared open mouthed like a blobfish until it became awkward. “Can I help you?” Said the shmoozy Spaniard. “I’m sorry, do you not think me and her look, like, really similar? Sorry to interrupt you both I’m just spooked.” I turn to Sophie two. “Hi, Sophie isn’t it? My names Sophie too. I just can’t believe how similar we look!”

She looked at me, horrified. She grabbed my elbow and marched me over to the corner of the room. Her head bowed and her eyes furrowed. I just let her guide me like a limp rabbit shocked into submission.

I slide my lanky body in a WHSmith, side-eying my next victim from behind a huge pink poster selling fluffy pencil cases. As I suspect, the slowing Ford Ka pulls over and a young woman gets out with two huge ASOS parcels. Hoisting her shoulder upwards to pin phone to ear; she chatters enthusiastically, using a spare foot to kick the door shut.

A classic code red. A Royal Mail jobby. As she rushes over to the post office I march over to her illegally parked automobile and honourably craft her a ticket of atonement. A way out. She can offset her sin by paying £45 and using my fine to guide her to enlightenment.

My aim, as a civil enforcement officer, is to create valuable, law-abiding members of society. I despair of the useless, slothful drains that crowd our towns. There is a war raged on the council, day in and day out. Simple rules to follow. Straight forward painted lines. Signs erected on every corner and extensive advice on government web page to guide them, but they disregard it all. It’s like wandering around a city of bottom scratching baboons. Full grown adults... not bothered about their communities! About the collective, about looking after each other!

I didn’t wait to have a conversation with the woman before heading back. I usually like to follow up my tickets with a brief discussion regarding awareness of current government regulations and a further probe into the ethics of right and wrong. But today I slide back into my spot, concealed once again by a sea of pink fur. I have a migraine and I can’t cope with high pitched female tonality right now.

Another comes along. A Qashqai this time. Don’t even think about it. He’s seen the Ka and he thinks he can do it too. Bloody scoundrel. Sure enough he indicates and pulls over. His bald merry head bobbing about like an egg coloured sea buoy. I despise eggs. He looks around him deceptive and sly before scurrying over to the Chinese take away. Thinks he can by-pass the law does he? Fool me once you impish peasant - I will not be crossed again!

I stomp over to his embarrassingly large gas guzzler and smack a big yellow ticket on the windshield. He runs back over the road, “Stop! Stop! Hello Mate” he gasps. “I’m sorry alright, I’m sorry. I just wanted to pick up me Chinese. Me and the Mrs are having a nice Friday night in n that. Look mate I’m sorry can I just grab me Chinese n I’ll be gone.

I look at him disapprovingly. Before I can begin my spiel on good citizenship, I receive a thunk to the head. The Ford Ka woman has driven passed and threw a squished up coke can at me. I tut and put the can in the bin while setting a mental reminder to add ‘littering’ to her fine.

She ran and ran and ran and ran. Today had been the straw that broke the camels back. Too much sickly warmth. Too many pillows, safety locks and endless TV series. Claustrophobia. Why was everything so clean? So organised? So empty and meaningless? She could barley breath. A daily battle with boredom. She felt dangerously close to giving in. Unfulfilled and imprisoned in her own monstrous head. She didn’t know where she was going or what she was running from. An internal, existential crisis? How could she be so weak? She knew deep down this was ridiculous but she needed to run. Her perfect cage, stocked full with everything she needed: it felt unbearable. Perhaps this is what can happen if primal human needs are suppressed for too long. Running felt like a natural coping mechanism. Something was missing. She felt trapped. Her chest burned, her ragged breathing cut through her like a knife. She was numb. She couldn’t remember how long she’d been running for, but the day had faded into dusk and she was surrounded by woodland. The faint roar of car engines felt far enough away to ignore. She lay down on the damp, grassy floor and felt her hot, sweat- gleaned body mould into the stable ground. She closed her eyes and welcomed in the earthy smells. She stretched her wrought body as far as it would go and allowed the blades of dewy grass to gently tease her skin. A moment of pure stillness encompassed her. Peace at last.

Muddy paws Wind blown fringe. Crunch Whistle Cry, Crack Rustle Sing.

Distant bang Pheasant squawk Splash Flutter Gasp, Toot Bubble Buzz.

Garlic, Blackberries Sorrel and Mint Giggle hop Chirp Swoosh Howl Hush

Squelch & Thud Pine straw, stomp.

Velvet muzzle, tail goes swish.

Tongue clicks: Jump and sniff Clip Clop Hoist. Chuck Muffle Romp.

I’ve started this new thing, a personal resolution if you will. I want to look people in the eyes and acknowledge them. Maybe smile, maybe say hi. On my way to work; in the shops, anywhere, anytime, anyone. I’m going to start today. I’ve spent a lot of time as a young adult in London avoiding eye contact. Looking anywhere but a face and building up a sort of fear of people. I fear strangers and large crowds. Everyone can be a threat. I’ve researched it and it’s science, the brain becomes overwhelmed. We aren’t supposed to see so many people in the same place at once - it’s supposed to trigger some sort of uncomfortable reaction. Standing in Trafalgar Square outside the M&M store is unnatural and I don’t like it. Why is the M&M store so busy? It’s bright and brash and full of pointless themed tripe. I cannot believe that there was a worldwide demand and fan base for M&M’s. Maybe I’m being near sighted because I’m not 10 and I don’t like animated chocolate. Mum regularly declared to my sister and I that we need to go through life with the mindset of a sewer-scurrying Rat, not of a bamboo-chewing panda. She would ask us. ‘Tell me girls - which species is dying out?’ So with her somber mantra in mind - I decide I will face it like a rat and acclimatise to this crazy big city terrain. It has become a problem particularly now, because I have a boyfriend and he’s noticed I act weird when we are in busy places. Agitated, uncomfortable, snappy. I don’t have full blown toddler tantrums - I just tense up; like a city fox aware that a she’s wandering around within the habitat of a different species. If she doesn’t keep to the shadows, she will raise unwanted attention to herself. I love the idea of foxes but they are defensive and unapproachable. Who wants a fox for a girlfriend?

Said boyfriend needs to go to the pub and watch Liverpool United; I can tell this aspect of his lifestyle is an unspoken dealbreaker. So my hyper awareness in large, loud crowds needs to be doused by a large pint of Guinness and some eye-contact therapy. Relationships are like that aren’t they? They often reveal secrets about ones character that were previously hidden. Intimacy and vulnerability have a way of unmasking ones spooky skeletons and you should be encouraged to become acquainted with them. A good partner notices you. Notices your surprising little enigmas. I bravely set off into the crisp morning air with resolution; today I will find an iris that will cleanse me of my inner secret fox.

Shut the church doors Put on your gloves Close the cafes The clock strikes 5 They bellow: YOU ARE NOT ALONE Don’t cough How rude! Tick tick tick tock No time for bullshit Stop your commute You silly fool Don’t visit your grandad! Stay away, stay away! Laugh at the panic buyers Panic buy. Halt the service sector It’s not that important anyway The clock strikes 5 They bellow: YOU ARE NOT ALONE Is your journey essential? Are you essential? We won’t be like italy You’ve lost your job Tick tock We are not America stop the schools Stop the cleaners Our beast Our greed, Did you know it can be paused! Silence A COVID Community No footsteps No planes Is this a message Is it a dream? The clock strikes 5 They bellow: YOU ARE NOT ALONE Righty-tighty Stiffen your lip Log onto zoom let’s do a quiz You can still buy fizz still shop in Marks and Sparks People are kinder And there’s less Less noise Less stress A message pops up Apologies We’re decreasing your interest The clock strikes 5 They bellow: YOU ARE NOT ALONE Skeleton workers Stop going to the parks You irresponsible parent of 3! One in one out! Our lovely British police They can stop you now While munching through your tins Keep clapping for the NHS Beans, tuna, tomatoes Any spare? Tick tick tick tock The prime ministers got it The clock strikes 5 They bellow: YOU ARE NOT ALONE He looks tired manages to crack a joke It’s still a novelty It’s Corporate socialism Don’t let your staff go We’ll pay them Tick tock April showers have arrived We get to be contemplative now behind the pages of a book We forgot to mention Not now for goodness sake We didn’t say we could pay them now Redundancy I can hear the birds I can feel the trees breathing Some people’s homes Are in their head Some homes are prisons Not designed for isolation The clock strikes 5 They bellow: YOU ARE NOT ALONE