The Invisible Bell

I did not realise so many people could be confused by the round, button shaped object placed carefully on most front doors of properties in this fair & smelly land of ours. Maybe they mistrust it as magic, maybe they've pressed one before and were surprised by the unearthly noise that resulted. Maybe nothing good can come from disturbing a small piece of plastic with your precious fingers, or maybe, just maybe it would be better to give it a try than to barge straight in, or drop a note through the letter box and bugger off.

Just yesterday morning, two such frightened creatures passed by my front opening. The first, the legendary Yerghvonne from the letting agents, decided to ignore our wondrous bell machine. She just gave a slight tap on the door, unlocked it and walked in, shouting "I did knock!" all within one precious second of her earth-time. She then explained that she wanted to inspect our darkest crevices, "We did send a letter, though it might've been to the wrong address" she bleated, before we threw her into the street, like a surging & excessively strong, spinning Jennie.

The next hapless stranger was our postman with a rather substantial package (to deliver, not in his trousers). This time, no bell, for that would be ridiculous, no knock, for that way lies madness, just a clink of the letterbox & a lovely little note to apologise for not catching us at home, even though we were at home! I ran out into the cold, cold street in nothing but my slippers and rather dapper dressing gown, flapping in the breeze. But he had already left this plane of existence and I could do nothing but to sob gently into my increasingly soggy Weetabix.

On a more cheery note, it's nice to see that the BBC have decided to celebrate four glorious years of war in Iraq with a nice little logo. If nothing else we can say that it has been truly worth it, just for this extraordinary piece of graphic design.


Currently listening: The Deep Blue by Charlotte Hatherly