Yeah, I said, cos somebody invented perfume.
They said it was an apt name, when they watched me in the showers.
I said probably not, because if I were going to write my thoughts and stuff then it would be too personal for her.
I am Rufus Little. This is my story. A story of the present days and a lot of harking back to the past.
She says bottling things up leads to nothing but sorrow.
Sorrow’s such a sad word, and it makes me think of dead baby birds.
Yeah, I said, cos somebody invented perfume.
Last time Susan laughed I do not know; she has no smile-lines but she has many creases from frowns.
And she frowns a lot at me.
I am Rufus Little, but my mother called my Roof and the boys at school called me Little.
and I marvelled at how they remembered them all.
I looked at them and I put them away and I didn’t look at them for ages.
Then Susan came round, and she was scribbling into her clipboard, and she said, How are you? How have you been?
Yeah, Susan thinks she’s a shrink. But really she’s just maternal.
If I had any hair she’d pet it, like a little mistreated dog.
I told her about the notebook and fountain pen and I went and got it for her.
She gave me a funny look when I took it from its wrapping paper, and she said it was very smart and what was I going to use them for?
Rufus Little is my name,
and the sky scarce had clouds