Rosemary Nissen-Wade: Aussie poet and teacher of metaphysics – a personal view
My bestie nicknamed me SnakyPoet on her blog, and I liked it. (It began as
'the poet of the serpentine Northern Rivers' and became more and more abbreviated.)
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Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Writer's Journal (exercise): House Call

Exercise from U3A group:

House call 
Simple
Lavatory
Comfortable
Reach
Chewing
Usherette 
Dentures

When the urgent message came through on the cinema phone for a house call, I wasn't surprised. The lights were out of course, but as usherette I had my torch. The doctor had told me where he'd be sitting, so that I could find him. Dolly King was due to have her baby any minute, he said. I'd just got comfortable up the back, to sneak a look at the movie myself, so I wasn't best pleased, but I stopped chewing on my gum, tucked it into my cheek so it wouldn't glue my dentures shut, and got up to look for  him discreetly. Not in his seat! Oh darn,must have gone  to the lavatory. But no, that was too simple. After I trundled up there and knocked on the door of the Men's, there was no response. How on earth was I going to find out where  he'd got to, let alone reach him in time? There was really only one thing to do. So that's how I found myself at Dolly's place at 10pm, delivering a baby for the first time in my life. Never did find out where the doc had got off to.

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