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Wednesday, 18 September 2013

Lulu.




She puts on her own seatbelt and waves goodbye to the staff at the centre who have put her in my cab. I have taken Lulu to and from the centre for many years now. She shoves polo mints into my mouth and waves ten pound notes in front of my face to pay me when I’m driving. She cries when I hit potholes and is beside herself when there is a delay or traffic. ‘What’s your name? Is something she has asked me once a week for the last 14 years.
Today though is a special day. Today she has had a celebration. Lulu has had a party.
She has a phone, she likes the beeps and whistles it makes. She makes a call; ‘Hello? Hello? Its forty years today! Yes! I had a party! Forty years in the home! Hello? Hello? The line is dead. Ten seconds the call lasted, to her sister. Busy I suspect, our lives are busy after all. ‘What’s your name?’ She asks, I am already new to her yet again and after searching her cardigan pocket she shoves a hairy polo mint into my mouth.
See you next week Lulu.