Friday 22 August 2008

interlude

INTERLUDE

From his bedroom he walked down the stairs, all twelve of them, turned 180 degrees at the bottom whilst simultaneously stepping around the vertical post which holds the bannister placed, and along the hallway towards the kitchen, the door was open so he walked through; had the door not been open then he would have had to put to the floor the three dinner-plates in his left hand which clung to the remains of the last three meals he had consumed, using his newly freed hand to turn the handle that opens the door, repick the plates from the floor and proceed into the kitchen, alternatively he would have had to put to the floor the oversized teacup; everybody commented on the size of his teacup but to his eyes it seemed of perfectly reasonable dimensions; clinging to the remains of the last two hundred cups of tea he had consumed which was held in his alternative hand; he therefore entered the kitchen hindrance-free and proceeded with the accuracy of routine towards the kitchen sink which he would leave beside his dinner-plates followed by a direct projectory to the kitchen kettle which he would leave beside his semi-notorious teacup. The commissioning of this action helped him grasp the fact that he had indeed forgot to bring with him the dinner-plates from his bedroom and if that wasn't unfortunate enough, he had also forgotten the teacup! So in order to fulfil his task he exited the kitchen and refolded his steps along the hallway and up the twelve stairs towards his bedroom, six steps up he stopped, cursed the occurration that to have set the kettle boiling before returning to his room would dramatically cut the dead time waiting for the plastic electrically charged animal to perform its job, he thus returned to the kitchen using the usual route; as any non-usual route would involve leaving the house through the front -door, walking around to the back of the house negotiating a four-foot-high wooden fence, crossing the backyard and re-entering using either the back window or the back door as portal; this was highly unpractical as he was bare-foot and suffered from agoraphobia; the kitchen door however was now closed, he must have done this out of habit when last exiting, thankfully he had neither plates nor teacup in hand so negotiation of the door-handle was relatively uncomplicated. In preparation of setting the kettle to boil he plucked the kettle from its seat, walked it accross the kitchen to the sink, where he stood holding the kettle with opened lid under the tap which inevitably would be turned on in order that the water be able to escape, the kettle returned to its seat and was switched on at the socket and on the instrument, he opened the cupboard at head-height to take from it a tea-bag, halting instantly as remembered the cup was yet to be recovered, from his bedroom he collected teacup and dinner-plates and was confronted by a closed kitchen door, he must have done this out of habit when last exiting, he put the dinner -plates to the floor, turned the door-handle with his newly freed hand, opened the door, re-picked the plates from the floor, re-entered the kitchen putting plates and cup in relevant positions, he waited, then remembered what he was waiting for, he was waiting to remember the next job to bring about conclusion to the task at hand, he then remembered, opened the cupboard at head-height to take from it a tea-bag, he could not see any, his eyes were open, then why, of course, the light-switch had yet to be activated, he walked across the kitchen to the light-switch which was directly opposite the cupboard at head-height which was directly opposite the light-switch which enticed the electricity to perform the necessary circuit, he, enlightened, walked exactly half-way across to kitchen towards the cupboard at head-height when to his left he noticed that the arm of the tap had been swivelled to a 58 degrees angle from the edge of the sink and not the 44 degree angle as he had previously assumed, therefore, he deduced, the water had in-fact not filled the kettle but fallen into the sink to be deflected down the plug-hole, this suspicion confirmed as he turned to the kettle which was directly opposite the sink and opened the lid to see inside, the obvious action to be taken, situation as it now was, would be to fill the kettle making the requisite adjustments to the position he held it beneath the tap, so this is what he did. The kettle now filled; was always full, but for his purposes he found water a more appropriate element than those found in air; was placed on its seat and set to boil, he waited, then remembered, he turned to the cupboard at head-height, opened it but saw no tea-bags, he crouched to look inside the crouch-height cupboard and saw a tea-bag, pinched between thumb and pointing finger he took the tea-bag, uncrouching, adjusted his arm till it hovered above the teacup, released the pincers and his calculations were correct, the tea-bag fell into the teacup, he waited, his eyes were in the direction of the window, he waited, his eyes were in the direction of the floor, he waited, his eyes were in the direction of the door, he waited, walked towards the door, through the door, along the hallway, up the stairs towards his bedroom, six steps up he stopped, cursed the occurration that he had left the kitchen without a cup of tea, returned to the kitchen, the door was closed, he must have done this out of habit when last exiting, he approached the kettle with a definite plan, he poured the now boiled water over the tea-bag, picked up the spoon he had found in the fourth drawer he checked in, used it to remove the tea bag whilst also giving it a gentle squeeze against the side of the cup to extract the maximum teaness, threw it binward, waited, I should have made coffee he thought, still can, he waited. No. I don't fancy it.

5 comments:

Oberon said...

.....i'm getting another cup of coffee.....i'll be right back.

Stephanie Lee said...

new favorite blog.

well done.

ula zuhra, 16 said...

thats amazing.
youre great

Thomas Banks said...

I find myself amused by this piece, and delighted that someone out there still likes George Meredith. No one on the star'd and striped side of the pond seems to read him. Are you British?

Deanmc said...

Wow, now THIS is cool stuff! I could spend hours reading all of this..

Dean