Ah well. It's great to be home, toasting my feet before a roaring driftwood fire and sipping a large mug of Madeira.
How did I get here? I can't for the life of me remember, and it's probably just as well. Geoffrey assures me that it was all a horrible dream - except for the part where we were sitting on Saturn's rings. Which leads me to think that we might still be there, and that my cosy fireside is an illusion, brought on by either boredom or terror. Or both.
Is it possible to be bored and terrified at the same time?
I will ask Geoffrey.
"Geoffrey?"
"Yes, I think it is. For example - "
"But I haven't asked you anything yet. Oh no! Don't tell me you're at the mind-reading again. Where's your Mind-reading Prevention Device, or M.P.D.? Put it on immediately."
"No. I have a new Device. It's a Mind-reading Filtre, or M.F. It enables me to choose which minds to home in on and read, rather than having to endure the chitter chatter of many minds, when in range of course. Some people's minds are rather unsavoury, Tuppy. You'd be surprised."
"I wouldn't," I thought.
"Yes you would. And no, I don't mean normal dirt and muck, or wanting to put a pillow over my face to stop me snoring PERMANENTLY, or hiding packets of Gypsy Creams and Black Bogey behind the skirting and pretending we've run out. Yes, I know about all that, because I saw your thoughts - it was just like being at a magick lantern show, except it was deeply hurtful and upsetting and there was no popcorn and nobody sneezing in the seat behind without covering their mouth."
I was aghast. Talk about intrusive! I tried to make my mind as blank as possible by thinking about Nothing...nothing.....nothing.....Gosh it was difficult. So much for people saying I'm empty-headed.
Geoffrey was still rattling on. "It's all right Tuppy - I forgive you. I understand your foibles, despite your not understanding mine and being horribly impatient with me. What I mean is, some people think nasty, poisonous thoughts about other people. They assume the worst. They suffer agonies of jealousy and they want to bring them down. These thoughts occupy most of their waking moments, and as a result they make their own lives miserable as well as the lives of those around them. I can't bear it Tuppy!"
He began to sob.
"Fetch the M.P.D. right now Geoffrey," I snapped, "I'm sure it's still in the attic - possibly underneath the coracle. The new-fangled M.F. obviously is no earthly use whatever, and you're starting to rave, albeit rather feebly. This carry-on has to stop, and stop NOW. While you're searching for it I'm going to have an opium tabloid to take the edge off my morbid fear of still being on Saturn's ring and my own cosy fireside just being a trick of the over-taxed brain, and ponder today's conundrum - is it possible to be both bored and terrified at the same time."
more later
