Me: "Are you in Cyprus at the moment Missy?" I shift the telephone receiver slightly away from my ear. She has a loud voice.
HB: "Might as well not be, for all the shit that's going down."
Me: "That's a trite harsh. What do you mean? It was hardly a big surprise. The Greek Cypriots have done this before. Stuck two fingers up at popular opinion. Good for them."
HB: "You were positively in tears last night. What's up?"
Me: "Beginning to accept what I knew all along. Reality has set in. Who was ever going to be radical enough to prove me wrong?"
Me: "Besides a forced settlement would have cracked somewhere down the line, sooner or later. Remember a little thing called history? You can't force the Greek Cypriots to be bed-buddies or keep reminding them of your family members they massacred. Death shouldn't be a cliché or used as often as one."
HB: "So, about the blog?"
Me: "Yeah, I know, it's taken a funny turn, but it goes where it will. When the time's right you'll get an answer to your question."
HB: "Wanna go somewhere for dinner tonight?"
Me: "Yeah, how about that Italian I told you about on the South?"
HB: "Sure. Does she do threesomes?"
Me: "That's old Missy. They have that carved in the caves at Lascaux, France."