Holding

by Graham Norton

Who knew a simple scone could provoke such a confusion of emotions? He felt patronized, angry, greedy, hungry, and defeated all at the same time.

Some marriages combust, others die, and some just lie down like a wounded animal, defeated.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like people; she just didn’t need them.

Was it really possible that she could have wasted so much of her own life out of a demented sort of politeness?

At this time of night he left the door ajar for air, but during the day he tended to keep it firmly shut. If he couldn’t hear their stupidity, he reasoned to himself, then he might forget for a few hours that he worked with idiots.

It wasn’t like that between them, between any of the sisters. Life had taught them well. Feelings were to be feared, pain was to be avoided at all costs, and if that meant not experiencing joy, then so be it.

after some smiling introductions she found her mind wandering as the others discussed the new parking scheme or some politician who had made a fool of themselves on The Late Late Show last Friday. If being lonely meant not having to talk about shit like that, then she would choose it every time over having coffee dates and ladies’ lunches.

It seemed her emotional earthquake had not created a single ripple. The world was the same.

All of this couldn’t have just randomly happened to her; somehow, she reasoned, it must be her fault. To try was to fail. To care was to get hurt.