The other night I came home late and tired and went to say hello to my nephew’s hamsters. One of the little bastards bit me.
Then I giggled all the way back to my room and to sleep, wondering if it had been a radioactive hamster, whether I’d wake up and be bestowed superhero powers as ‘Hamster Man’, and what my costume would look like.
Then the next morning I woke up and still had a balance of unfinished giggles. So I told my friends about Hamster Man, and I was glad they understood where I was coming from. Then I wondered if having these thoughts were an impediment to my ever figuring out the loose ends in the thing that I call my life.
At the risk of being labelled copycat again, I quote E M Forster’s epigraph to ‘Howard’s End’: ‘Only connect’. Try as I may, nothing seems to want it. ‘No, not yet. No, not there’.
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