a power is passing from the earth

 

The phone rang.

I read the Caller Identification thing and recognised the number.

News of an aunt's death was expected.

One of the great ones.

She had loomed large in our lives.

As many of you know, I have been targetted for a number of years by some of the skangiest lowlife among the various dissolute hooring and touring drug dealing people trafficking child abusing IRA tinker gang scruff mafias of the Republic of Ireland.

I mean I don't want to go casting no aspoyshuns.

The Kinahan gang might be somebody's mother.

Hilariously, now for the first time ever, I was afraid to answer the phone.

"Well God,"I mumured, consulting the Deity as is my wont, "how about if we just say that for the next two hours she's still alive? I'll start answering phones again after that and by then I'll be a bit more ready to face things."