Paul sat on the rented teal sofa and smoothed out the vacant velveteen cushion adjacent to him. He looked across to the grey bucket chair that had never once featured in his grey matter as part of his bucket list, and sighed.  The offensive four legged creature sat glaring at him from the opposite corner of the lounge in the most austere fashion. Even with the faux seventies cushion Paul had pretentiously thrown in to break the psychiatric waiting room look, the seat still appeared disapproving . Daring him to explain why he had rented her instead of purchasing her outright.  

Hadn’t he worked hard enough?  

Hadn’t he saved his pennies?  

I’ve actually done both of those Paul heard himself explaining, astonished he was fashioning hard talk with a soft furnishing. He had no idea why he, or his partner, should be renting furniture which was bullying them.  Even the temporary sideboard had sidled up with a condescending attitude of don’t touch me – all highly veneered and marble topped!  Unfortunately the topping had been cracked on delivery.  Paul had fortunately noticed the damage and so at least there was a discount. There really was absolutely no need for the cabinet to be so uppity – it was after all a second, and due for a re-shuffle. 

Still – Paul sat unsettled on the rented settee. And mused, whilst muse-less.

The houseplants, thank God, were borrowed.  As all plants are. Yet these had been provided by Paul’s family.  Not altogether altruistically as the space they’d created afforded more room for the clan as they were currently in the throws of moving home.  Paul’s mother had acquired the small Georgian house adjacent to that of his sisters. She was currently residing with her daughter as the next door property was being whipped into shape. It had taken a lot of whipping, but now, after a long and stifling summer, it was almost time to move in.   Paul was certain his sister Tina would be relieved.  No matter how much one loved one’s family one loved one’s space too.  And this summer had provided precious little of that. At one point, Tina’s abode had  accommodated her mother, daughter and boyfriend George, brother and brother-in – law, her beautiful cat Tommy and an irascible Pomeranian called Lola.  

They had been quite the menagerie.  

Yet, had survived.  

They had managed to negotiate the problems thrown up by one bathroom and a kettle which took to take two days to boil.  They were all still friends. Great ones.  But Paul, and he suspected everyone else felt the same. It was time for a room of one’s own.

He and Andrew had been suffering from a lack of that luxury since they had managed to escape from The Phillipines on a repatriation flight during the peak of the covid crisis.  Since then they had slept on spare beds, sofas, floors, buses, trains, boats and planes. 

Across two continents. 

There had been very little employment.  All their gigs had been cancelled. Corona Virus did little for one’s audience figures.  Unless ‘The Lola Boys’ went online.  It was virtually their only hope – going virtual. They were thinking about how to make the switch. Not to mention a living.

The boys had performed a few times online whilst stranded in the Pacific.  The shows had gone down very well, however, Paul knew he and Andrew couldn’t always rely on a crisis to to give them inspiration.  Although there were quite enough of them about.  

No sooner had the pandemic waned when an unhealthy rash of hotspots had broken out.  The madman Putin decided it was time to invade a neighbour, leaving everyone hot under the collar for now at least.   Cold necks were on the agenda though for the coming winter.  And evil Vlad didn’t give a rouble! We were all predicted to freeze or spontaneously combust come December.  Paul had no idea why everyone was so surprised at the short, Russian psychopaths’s despicable behaviour.  He had known the despotic character of the evil fool all along.  The Lola Boys had included a song about Putin in their act for years. Lyrics which included the line – ‘Ukraine, You Saw, You Conquered,’ had always got a big reaction. Perhaps The Lola Boys’ fans were more astute than the average politician. 

Lord knows it wouldn’t be difficult.  

Then there was the dictator that ruled China, the one it’s proud people called ‘Winnie the Pooh’ if they were brave enough.  It seemed ‘Pooh Sticks’ were not enough of a diversion for him any longer, and sticking it to Taiwan might be more fun.

Now that these tyrannical, egotistical and posessed characters posessed far too much power they could now conceivably control everyone else’s. 

Literally.  

All one hears these days is the great and the good gassing about the price of energy and how none of us will be able to afford to boil an egg come Christmas. It will certainly be game over when it comes to cooking a turkey. We’re surely all stuffed if one believes the hype.

And then, just as Vlad the loud hailer threatens nuclear war, and days couldn’t get more depressing, the Queen goes and snuffs it. Well,  Her Majesty always had impeccable timing.

No sooner had Queen Elizabeth been laid to rest when her former subjects began suggesting the Pound could soon be interred with her. It was certainly taking a pounding!

Paul was wondering if things could get much worse. Then decided to cease his musings – as they probably could. 

This loyal subject was changing his!

He turned his attention instead to the future and began to plan a new adventure.  Once he and Andrew had sold up and hit the road the world was their lobster. They’d both be basket cases if they stayed still for too long. Trussed up! The explorer in them both was ready to map a new way of the world. 

Paul looked over to the bucket chair.

It was still grey.

But he wasn’t. 

Not when he recalled the irridescent colours of the world he and his partner had been lucky enough to experience.

The future was bright.

The future was always bright if one looked through Lola-tinted spectacles.

Even from a rented settee!