Leggings - Maybell’s squad!

Leggings -  Maybell’s squad!   

Over the intervening weeks, Maybell has been working on her presentation, giving interviews and talks by radio, making sure her game is well known and played out.  She has had members it seems of a public services course over to Norwich for evening work, and I do so hope that it doesn’t include the nude films, bdsm, and the dirty blankie house of 1001 pleasures….  They skulk at the bus station if I see them while waiting on a bus to my daughter’s house in rural Norfolk. 

There are also terrified families who dread that their children are next on the list and who squeak and squawk through the night begging that they are not on the list for sale purposes….  If they wake me with the infernal radio racket, I get cross and tell them to take their children home and lock the doors, and windows, and refuse to play any game with Maybell ever again!

Maybell informs me that she isn’t allowed on the premises, however she sounds very close too… and is extremely noisy.  There is also a male radio announcer here as well, giving it some smooth gibber every so often, and if I’m cross again, I get all the hang about women to go “Quack! Quack!”  It amuses me somewhat, although even that small revenge is wearing thin.

The noise intrudes all the time, except for when I play my radio, as they don’t like competition.  Maybell keeps on screaming that something is after her.  I wish it would catch her!  She arranges deliveries and torments me that they are really for me, and she has been given permission to do this, as the will states – although I think this one has been done already – I am a lovely person and can like everyone.  I’m not that lovely, I think that after all these years you’d have to be a bit short on the brain cells to be that nice and naive.

In the morning around 3 to 8 a.m. something appears to happen.  I don’t go down there at all, I don’t trust it, it may be a recording and no, I don’t want to wake up all the other flats if they are hardy enough to sleep through all the noise of Maybell’s trained squaddies all going out to fleece the milkman, who is so scared he puts his milk outside the door for all that want it…. And runs.    Or for the deliveries they insist must go through them to the right person.  It appears that the doorbells do not work without them moving an obstructing hand.  The Nazi principle of doing all the decisions for everyone else is upheld, No one can make their own mind up at all.   All who have told them not to do it, have been put to the process, the fear that they are next – for their special attention, is too fearful for most!

It’s a society of terror.  The students are told that they are learning about criminology…. I’ve heard them say this to them, are they? And whose?  

They are after another will it appears – or any money or goods that come….   Maybell even had someone shout up rude remarks about my Fig tree, which resided in the window.  Apparently, they were interested in my supposed use of the leaves…   It was so well kept that it has fruited now for three years, and its now too big for my windowsill and has gone to a charity shop in town.  It may still be there…   if you are interested in the leaf thing, however clothes are now very cheap in the sales sweeping the UK…   and they are much more fun than fig leaves!  Sam will no doubt talk to you about it if you get there, I don’t like to disappoint all these strange men who seem to love and adore fig leaves!  It requires a conservatory, at the least, or a warm garden and a house spot in the winter.  It doesn’t talk and is very easy with humans.

There are some very old members of the forces about generally too, I take them to be Royal British Legion-ists, perhaps a fragmented sparks team.  This is a bit strange – again I caught terror, the theme is that they must do something and don’t want to do something, yet if they don’t well…. Etc…     under orders?  At their age?  Come on guys and girls – learn and get with it yourselves.

I went into a local shop recently and bought some toilet rolls, and they smelt so bad, it was like pre-used.  Later on, memory twitched again – perhaps they were the ones Grandfather lodged in the stores, designed for the forces use, with a bright flower pattern, they were rejected, because the first made plastic was so strong that it didn’t degrade at all, and formed a gas inside the package…  I took my pack back and asked the shop to investigate it, however they are still on sale, so I now presume that someone is still stealing in the storerooms here.  Is this what Maybell is really waiting for?   Has she got the young folk down there searching for sellable items or for my early designs in technology – including the famously loved ‘spider-kind’ unit?  Granddad encouraged my design skills, as he thought it was only right that design should continue to change ways of life.   In my last home design was not allowed.  Its very sad that most things were not allowed. 

Maybell and her many helpers make so much noise that I’ve given up screaming and taken to sleeping to get away from it.   It’s amazing as soon as they kick off, I’m dozing off in the chair, or bed.  On the way to work, they hit me with a rally of thought on the bus, - must have been a relay person with a phone upstairs perhaps -  and I nearly dozed off and would have missed my stop if another woman hadn’t spoken to me on her way out of the bus….  I’m not sure if this is a good development or not.   I think in the end of their last bullying episode the families did to me before the Lee family took me in, I was asleep a lot, and sleeping sickness was mentioned…   I shrank too and became a younger me.

Some of the support structure around the eyes is working loose – and coming away, and although I knew that this was planned for – it’s a strange when it comes away…  I feel as if my face is changing….  I will be back to Frankenstien I suppose, its daunting!