Confusions

CONFUSIONS
By Alan Ayckborn

ERNEST
Excuse me. Just taking refuge. Nut case over there. Bloody woman prattling on about her dog. Ought to be locked up. Thinks every man’s after her. I mean, look. Look at it. After her? She’d have to pay ‘em. You know the sort though, don’t you? If you let her talk to you long enough, she’ll talk herself into thinking you’ve assaulted her. Before you know it, she’s screaming blue murder, you’ll be carried off by the fuzz and that’s your lot. Two years if you’re lucky. I mean, I came out here to get away from the wife. Don’t want another one just like her, do I? I mean. That’s why I’m in the park. Get away from the noise. You got kids? Don’t have kids. Take my tip, don’t get married. Looks all right, but believe me – nothing’s your own. You’ve paid for it all but nothing’s your own. Yap, yap, yap. Want, want, want. Never satisfied. I mean, no word of a lie, I look at her some mornings and I think, blimey, I must have won last prize in a raffle. Mind you, I dare say she’s thinking the same. In fact, I know she is. Certainly keeps me at a distance. Hallo, dear, put your money on the table and she’s off out. Don’t see her for dust. Sunday mornings, it’s a race to see who can get out first. Loser keeps the baby. Well, this morning I made it first. Here I am in the quiet. Got away from the noise. You know something interesting? Most of our lives are noise, aren’t they? Artificial man-made noise. But you sit out here and you can listen-and-well, there’s a bit of traffic but apart from that – peace. Like my mother used to say. Shut your eyes in the country and you can hear God breathing.