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Memories Episode 4
continued from 'Wistful expectations' - (Memories Episode 3)
Sunshine streaking through the blinds awakes me
My deficient memory state got a luxury sleep in
Encapsulating facts from my confused dream
I attempt to analyse facts from the muddle deep within
I recapture my dream
I’m in an office - my own it seems
I look at the monitor it’s filled with spreadsheets
Figures and columns - I stare - I wonder
What on earth am I working on?
It all makes no sense
Irritated voices filtering from the next room
Men’s voices in heated argument
In spite of feeling intrusive like an eaves dropper
I strain to listen but can’t distinguish the muffled words
Moving closer to the separating wall
The raised voices seem distinctly familiar
‘Manipulation’-‘Fraud’ - ’Deception’
Odd words from acutely stressed voices filter out
‘This will sink us Greg – not to mention a stint in jail’
A snide laugh - ironic and nasty
This time the words ring out quite clearly
‘Spending investor funds on your woman
Your high maintenance woman
With her lavishly expensive tastes’
‘Have you told Gabby about her yet? About your Maddison’
Oh my - what have I got myself into?
I move back to the monitor and gather information
These men seem to be large scale stock brokers
Trading on the markets, buying and selling securities
I scroll through there are lists and lists of investors
There are places I was never meant to go
Things that I was never meant to see
Instinctively I reach for the phone- just as my door opens
“Oh what a tangled web we weave
When first we practise to deceive”*
And then I’m awake and here in my room
Is my name Maddison?
I’m the other woman?
The ring less finger - Now it’s all starting to make sense
Though there’s one thing that doesn’t
I look at my mirrored reflection
Nothing - Nothing
Except that one thing
I don’t feel like a Maddison
I dig deep trying to hear my mother
If I have a mother - I try to imagine hearing her calling me
Maddison - Maddison - Maddison
No - No - No!!
I don’t feel like a Maddison
I don’t feel high maintenance
I haven’t even visited the hairdresser on this floor
Why haven’t I felt an overwhelming urge to take myself there?
I look at my nails, they are short.
Wouldn’t they be long and fashionably styled?
If I was so high maintenance?
Even with my fog brain I would know
Silly needs like that would always stay
Vanity cannot be denied
An overwhelming urge to be sick
And I just make it to the toilet in time
I come out I see my nurse watching me
A slight smile hovers on her lips
She knows I’m pregnant - She knows I’m pregnant?
But how she would know - that is beyond me
An old tune plays softly from the next room
I know the old lady from there
‘Smoke gets in your eyes’ - I know that song well
Did my mother or father like it too?
This seems all too familiar
And out of the blue it all gets too much
My fuddled brain - the words from the song
My nurse is starting to feel more like my mother
She takes me into her arms
Did Love enter my life only to turn?
Did I try to convince him knowing the lies?
That our love was true despite the deceit
And voluntarily permit the smoke in my eyes?
Oh deception how you wickedly flirt
With this poor blurred mind steeped in amnesia
Emotional therapy will play no major part
To withhold the pain without anesthesia
Stay tuned for next episode…
Reference * ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave…’ - Sir Walter Scott - ‘Marmion’1806
Image from Movie poster of Deception 2008
Music Video - The Platters – ‘Smoke Gets In Your Eyes’
Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017