Achingly Familiar

You don’t know anything about me. None of this is real. Inside my real head is a tiny head and the tiny head is being controlled by a pygmy terrier. But let me start at the beginning. When we first met and I said you reminded me of Schwagrovsky the classical pianist I wasn’t talking about the real Schwagrovsky and I wasn’t talking to you- I was talking to the girl seated directly behind you. So that was the start of our relationship and it’s gone around the bend ever since. What I’m telling you is, judging the book by the cover of the book is a terrible mistake. You open the book and it’s not a book at all, it’s a piece of pastry shaped just like a book.

But let me begin at the beginning. There was a tremendous void and then life happened and, before long, there were the two of us entwined in a slippery, drippy, love embrace. You were you but I was being remote-controlled by a little boy with a red hat topped with a blue spinning propeller. Eventually he lost interest and that’s where the pygmy terrier came in.

This may sound strange the first time you hear it. But believe me, on your second read-through it all starts sounding achingly familiar.

I was once a boy, you were once a girl, but beyond that it’s all invention and a precarious muddle of the mechanical and the biological. How did I get bionic eyes? It’s a long story. But that’s how I spotted you walking down the gangplank to dry land. You and your little dog Greenie with the mysterious toothy grin.

I’ve said this before but I’ve never seen anyone quite as enchanting as you and if just once all my parts and pieces could come to attention and form an actual, non-mechanical man I would make love to you and you wouldn’t soon forget it.



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