THE CYCLOPS

cyclops 1

Let’s get one thing straight before we begin . It’s not the bees’ fault. Right ? The reason I’m sitting here like Charles Laughton as Quasimodo  with my eye expanded like a duck egg with a fine red line dividing it neatly in two.

I’m sitting here listening to the radio wondering if I’m in a fit state for public consumption on this beautiful sunny October morn.The air is crisp and clean. Jude is on the radio commenting on a few stories in the Sunday papers. “Sunday Sequence ” is on the radio .There was some guy on earlier who recently discovered that he could no longer find God.Fair play to him ,I thought. Apparently he’d been a real gung- ho religious fellow who preached his faith assiduously and with great fervour .Then by increments the story began to make less and less sense to him and his view of how the world works. That’s usually how these things happen .It just doesn’t work for everyone .That’s all.Interesting in that it’s a reverse on the road to Damascus.A reverse gear Damascene experience then.

Anyway..I’m as stupid and as smart as the next fellow. I contradict my own best advice , just like everyone else.Never mess with the little honeybees. . I know…I know …! It only takes one rash move and whammo.! You’ve been nailed. I thought…lovely day , yesterday .Every bit as good as today.Get that lawn cut quickly and give myself time to move that wee fuchsia bush back against the fence around the front of the house. Just a few quick sweeps past the honeybee hives  .They’ll be too busy to notice me and a lawnmower on a busy sunny day like this….

Wrong!!! Remember  how i told you of their aversion to anything vaguely modern, fumey, smokey or noisy …like lawnmowers?

I felt the tiniest little  nip at the side of my eyebrow and then it was gone . No more than a pinprick, really . I could hear the little girl rattling her wings and buzzing but I’m damned if I  could see her or find her.That’s probably more disquieting than anything else. Anyway, Michael saw me flapping  and abandoning the lawnmower and came to the rescue  deftly flicking  the little pointy lady away from where she  was resting and possibly dying , just out of my line of vision , under my chin. Crafty , eh?  I thought I’d made a fairly clean getaway really. There was no pain or reaction at all so I was able to spend the next couple of hours digging out that fuchsia bush  and extending the flower bed a little.That evening went all right too ; a couple of glasses of good  old red after my day’s toil  and I wouldn’t have been feeling much pain anyway .I took a  couple of anti-histamine tablets ,just in case,  and went to bed.

Morning….and who’s this One-Eyed Jack  shuffling down the hall  like the Cyclops in one of those old Ray Harryhausen stop-motion monster myths about Sinbad and the Golden Fleece or somesuch. Yes …it’s  I. Or should i say , it is Eye….Old One -Eye . The ocular orb has swollen up and the tissue has converged in the night.  i am half-blind.

it’s all right for Jude critiquing the Sunday papers on the radio but how is this one -eyed monster staring back at me in the mirror going to explain this deformity to the wee lassie down at the newsagents when I go to pick up my copies?. She’ll be thinking that the wife has swiped me a large one with the frying pan….

Yes, Jude,  you’ll understand why it took all day to type this one up!! Hopefully, fully stereoscopic delivery will be resumed within a  few days.

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