Mater

Anna was on the ball yesterday morning (nice change!); up at 6.30 and rearing to go. Trouble was, I wasn’t. I felt decidedly subdued after her fast and furious writing session the night before. I wouldn’t mind if it was me she was working on, but she didn’t give me a second thought. Except for a fleeting moment perhaps, when she plundered my story.

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Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want some other would-be-protagonist to go through the same on and off existence as has become my lot. Limbo is no place to be. I can vouch for that. A non-existent place for non-existent entities - and me. No, I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Unless you count Procrastination, of course.

I didn’t appreciate being ripped apart like that. I didn’t think Anna would stoop so low. She’s got plenty of ideas; why does she have to steal what's rightfully mine? Except they are hers really, I suppose. But she still made them part of me - and then took them back. I tell you, it's just not right. Besides, taking chunks out of me like that made me feel weak. I need to regain strength somehow and show her that I’m not a few pieces of scrap paper with scribbled ideas on, to be screwed up and chucked in the waste paper basket.

Anna was wide open to receive inspiration this morning - just the right time for me to make my move and get in there for a heart to heart - or a mind to mind - session. She’d had a good night’s sleep (all right for some!) and was receptive. Sod’s law, isn’t it, that I wasn’t up to it? I was no more than a few fleeting thoughts in her mind, but the spark was there. I could feel it.

But first she had to activate that virtual world that she insists on being a part of (not that I’m against that; I’m somewhat virtual myself), but did she have problems! I’m beginning to wonder whether I have some rivals for her attention. Anyway, her internet connection kept freezing up and when she thought she’d finally solved it, it logged her off. I might have had something to do with that, in the past, when I was nothing but a mischievous soul, but now that there’s some substance about me, I don’t resort to that kind of thing (I'm serious!). But, if she keeps stripping me down, I might just revert.

Watching her tearing her hair out as it’s all going wrong, it's obvious that causing trouble isn't the best way of getting her attention. She gets far too agitated. She’s certainly agitated now. I hope it’s not going to rub off.

I could do with an injection of positive energy and a chance to reclaim lost ground. I reckon she owes me that much - and more actually, but I’m not really in a position to bargain at the moment. Too feeble. But at least give me my due!

When she started hitting the delete button, I took a step back and hid behind a virtual curtain. Never thought I'd be a curtain twitcher, but I daren't stay where she might notice me. She could get rid of me with a few clicks of that button, and I don’t want her to get any ideas. Anyway, I don’t take up that much memory on the old hard-drive, do I?

I'm grateful that there’s back up, just in case. I almost forgot. Printed out hard-copy as well as handwritten notes. As long as my hard-copy doesn’t come too close to the waste paper basket or the Rayburn. That Rayburn is a fiend. I don’t know how many stories and ideas Anna’s fed into its hungry flames. I dread to think. Pity those would-have-been-protagonists. So far I’ve escaped that fate, but she’s made me sweat once or twice.

I’ll tell you a secret. I’ve been around a long time, and as long as she remains 'compos mentis' (now there’s a challenge!), I’ll be staying around. I’m embedded in her memory, like some kind of unwanted computer virus ( I need to be wanted!). But I can’t be rooted out like one of those. I’m here for keeps. She’ll never get completely rid of me, so she might as well do something about it. If she burns the manuscript and the handwritten notes and wipes clean the old floppy - and deletes me from her computer, it might just weaken me for a while, but that's all. It’s the last thing I want, but I have staying power, if nothing else. She can retrieve my story at any time, as long as she's in the right frame of mind.

Slamming the lid down on the laptop doesn’t help either of us, nor the machine, Anna!
I think I’ll stay out of the way till she has recovered her poise. Nudge her outside to enjoy the sunshine and children’s laughter; make her relax a little. I’ll relax right alongside her, no problem. Then tonight I’ll go for that tête-à-tête - when she’s neither asleep nor awake. That in-between state of consciousness when the mind is quite lucid, yet the body heavy with sleep. I like that time. That’s the time to get to her. I’ll face her when she can’t block me out or jump up to do something else. She’ll have to listen then.

My only worry is that she’ll stay up till all hours (she’s started burning that midnight candle again!) and become so tired that she falls asleep as soon as her heads hit’s the pillow. That won’t help me at all.