Smocks and Mirrors

 

 

'Of course it's all flummery, Owl says.'

'Sorry, Piglet, what is?'

'Politics.'

'Ah.'

'Nothing but smocks and mirrors.'

'Tchah.'

'I mean, look at the present management.'

'Must I?  Well, all right, for a minute.'

'All they've got to offer is a Quasi-Kwarteng.'

'Really?'

'True, Owl says.  Won't stump up for a real one.'

'Dear, oh dear.'

'And that Therese Coffin.'

'I thought it was Coffey.'

'Have you seen the way she gets through cigars?'

'Take your point.'

'And there's another called James Cleverly.'

'Need we go there?'

'Not at the end of a chilly day.  Mind you, someone said he was fairly decent.'

'So how did he end up among--?'

'Lost a bet?'

'That'd be the way of it.'

'I'd say so.  And not to mention Miss Truss.'

'Oh, I wouldn't.  But is she the one who has nightmares about being pursued by giant rounds of French cheese singing "Mademoiselle from Brexitieres"?'

'Still wakes up screaming.  Or rather, Wakes. Up. Screa. Ming.'

'She. Should. Dou. Ble. Her. Hor. Licks. In. Take.'

'She was a Loiner for a while, you know.'

'I wouldn't believe all they say on Tinder.'

'No, she lived in Leeds.'

'Oh, I see.'

'And spent a year in British Columbia.'

'Well, if you catch the wrong bus from the Headrow --'

'No, while her dad was working there.'

'Ah, right.'

'Enjoyed school there, she did. Said it was really good to be top of the class.'

'That's the beauty of one-to-one teaching, I suppose.'

'I suppose.'

 

Unimaginables

 

'Well, Piglet.'

'Well, Pooh.'

'How do you feel?'

'Reflective.'

'Ah.'

'Not to mention sombre.'

'We shan't.'

'In fact - enwrapped in unimaginables.'

'Well, you really should buy them in your own size.'

'I have to say, this morning, I definitely felt the hand of destiny.'

'Sorry, that was me - I thought you were sitting on that extra pot of hunny.'

'There will of course be reverberations.'

'I know. I ate it too fast.'

'The need to take stock.'

'Ah...yes. Quite.'

'To ask the unaskable question.'

'To fight the unfootling foe.'

'To bear with unbearable sorrow.'

'To take a left turn at Glencoe.'

'Pooh, what are you on about?'

'Sorry, I thought we were onto that song...you know..."This is my quest...to leach the unleachable tar" - and all that.'

'Hardly appropriate for the present moment, Pooh.'

'I suppose not.'

'There'll be an extended mourning.'

'I don't like the sound of that.  My stomach starts whimpering round eleven.'

'Not that kind of - look, let's just ponder in silence.'

'Right you are.'

'Have a proper mull.'

'Don't we need a mist rolling in from a sea for that?'

'Silence, Pooh.'

'Sorry.'

'No. I'm sorry, Pooh.  I was rather harsh just then.'

'I quite understand - unimaginables chafing, eh?'

9th September, 2022.