I am reverting to my name-type. Old, grey, grumpy.... disillusioned. I am also stiff as a board. Bits of me hurt more often than I would like. I have taken to seeing my osteopath again and she tries to straighten me up. Then she folds my arms across my chest and I see her approaching me with that rolled up towel...
And I do exclaim, "NO! Not the cracking..."
"Oh yes..." she says and...
Crack.. Crack.. crack... do sound my back as she do squash me up.
I look at her aghast.
She says... "You needed that."
Alors! I am still grumpy. Perhaps I have to take up meditation. But the world's a mess, ain't she.... and it do make me brood.
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