The Stella Returns. By CpSingleton © 2014
Stella said to leave her be.
That’s just what I did.
Until that wimple walk, which made her seem tipsy, could be seen on the dark side of the Café, making her way unsteadily to her table. The cutlery and condiments were arranged and rearranged, until she was satisfied. She was, fastidious like that.
She was a little OCD. So she said to anyone who’d bother to listen.
A pastime I learned not to be part of, over time.
Because she noticed the glazed look that frosted my eyes when she played the old imaginary disorder she would screech like a horny fox if I so much as put the sauce on the wrong shelf, just to remind me.
After a while, I would deliberately move it to test her. She never once noticed under such controlled conditions. So, I then put it in the bedroom and then into the bathroom, before throwing it into the outside bin,
She still didn’t notice.
She did eventually end the relationship because I went through a phase of wearing odd socks to work.
Anyway, a week later, life had bored her, so, she’d come back, expecting me to open my arms and welcome her into my world!
Which, of course, I did.
Funny how life goes, eh?