Spy Pond
There is a pain that comes with parties. It has nothing to do with age necessarily, it evolves throughout life, it stems from primitive instincts such as desire, competition, mating and strength. It surprises me, in my forties, to see people still playing the mating game at parties. I am not sure if they even recognise it. I’m also not quite sure if people sincerely believe themselves when they say things such as ‘oh, he is married, he is not interested in her.’ I am guessing that those who say such things have never read the great literary works of the past two or three centuries. So, the morning after the party, I awake with a headache… a hangover. Getting out of bed, I grab a bottle of coca cola from the fridge, my sunglasses and facemask from the breakfast bar, and slowly make my way down to the swimming pool. At the pool, I laze in the shade of the hot day and dive into the cool water to alleviate the hangover. Sipping the coca cola and slowly feeling life return, I no