Fossilisation

8am
Hey Y, lookin’ good today! I chirp at the person in the mirror.
What are you going to be wearing on that arse, let’s seee.. yep, good choice.
The person in the mirror poses and prances and twirls.
I decide that if I met myself I might ask myself out.
I would wolf-whistle if I knew how to. Nothing like a bit of shameless self-congratulation to start the day.

10am
What’s that at the back of the drawer.. an old film? How long has it been there? What can possibly be on it? I can’t remember last time I used my old camera. Months.
Why is it that old rolls of films can stay forgotten for ages, then must, must! be processed at high speed, right now, right this minute, I’m marching to Boots, and yes I do want the one-hour service, please, for I cannot bear to wait.
I kill time in the sun, trying to remember. What’s on that damn film? Who’s on that damn film? Why didn’t I get it processed at the time? It has to be a remnant of A and me, a fossil; I ponder with some kind of masochistic delectation, will it hurt, how much will it hurt, will my heart sink at the sight of her, the familiar but now blurry features? What will I do with the pictures, throw them away, slip them into an envelope that I will send her, or forget? Will I care? Will there be shots of me as I was then, will I be able to read the self-doubt/unease/wish to please on my face? What if it’s a terrible mistake to have that film processed?
£4.99 later – it was only a forgotten barbeque.
Disappointment and relief.

8pm
I can feel a very grown-up frown forming on my face. I’m sorting out finances, papers, records. Then a wad of sheets; the print outs of old emails. I shouldn’t read them. I shouldn’t read them. I read them. What energy, what momentum, what hope and warmth we bounced each other.
Another fossil.
Nothing like a bit of self-admonishment to end the day.