Eighteen Years Ago

Eighteen years ago today, in the early morning, I wrote, with very very trembly hands, in inordinately large letters, in cursive script (perhaps for the first time), on the large top line of an A5 sheet of paper, the date: September 17th 1991. And thus began my very first day in school.

Today, my education is a minor no more. It may now legally enjoy alcohol, cigarettes and sex. It may also stand trial as an adult (and I'd like it judged for a few shorcomings, too).

Eighteen years is a quite a while. I really should consider a career change.

Pax vobiscum atque vale.

ArabianShark remembers a mixture of joy and anxiety from his first day of school. Also the buckle on my backpack was very hard to unclasp for my infant fingers. It has been a long time indeed.


I don't want to talk about Fate anymore. Let her rot in some corner - far away from me. But no so far that it'll disturb the Aussies or the Kiwis, I've no beef with them. Send her to, oh say, France? Onwards...

Assumption, unlike Fate, who goes as a harsh mistress, is more of a deceitful little minx, one I just can't stay mad at. More often she's naughtier than she's nice, the little rascal, but she's an alright gal.

Today she might have done me quite a favour. Thank you, Assumption, dearest. Kick your colleague fate in the chin when you see her for me, if you will, and don't be a stranger.

Pax vobiscum atque vale.

ArabianShark is well aware that Fate isn't done taunting him, but, at this stage, it's manageable enough.

Well, now...

Just when I thought I was finally getting on with my old whole self, our good friend fiend Fate throws yet another spanner in my gears.

Come on, can't I just have one year for myself without you stepping onto my already rather frail balance and mucking it all up? One measly year? Is it too much to ask, Fate?

And don't expect to be excused by that flimsy attempt at would-be Greek tragedy style you're flaunting right about now. You suck at it.

Pax vobiscum atque vale.

ArabianShark is rather outraged at how Fate would corrupt and pervert a very much selfless act of his to wound him yet again. So this is what I get for being nice!? Naughty time draws ever closer, then.