BLUE BREXIT

Happiness makes you lazy, Anas was thinking as he lay in bed drinking his coffee, reading the papers and dreaming in peace, which he always liked to do on Saturday mornings. At one point, he was so tranquil he even had a spongy erection. Peering down at it through his glasses, he murmured, "Waste not, want not, as mother would say". He could have kissed it. That beauty he would be keeping for later.

Then he heard his sister’s key in the front door. Of course, unhappiness could have a similar effect, when it came to bringing on laziness. Depression would be worse. But happiness is the killer when it comes to productivity. Unhappiness wants a better future; but when you're happy, you've already arrived, thank God.

In the eternal brawl between stasis and movement, stasis had it all day, but his sister's intrusion had thrust her foot through his dream. He sighed as his body tensed. It was almost impossible to be selfish these days. The world wouldn't free you from its demanding grip. He would have to book a massage with his girl later.

Not that he wasn't aware that his sister Marie was coming; she had texted him last night. It wasn't a moment he had been anticipating with pleasure, to say the least. They were in the middle of ‘an issue’ that was disrupting his relaxation. He didn’t like issues with anyone, and certainly not with his sister. He supposed himself to be a mild-mannered man, who disliked, if not avoided, conflict, even when it was necessary or important. If he felt aggressive, he also felt ashamed. He'd never make a capitalist.

Downstairs, there was grumbling, followed by a moan. He heard a horrible scraping noise on his hall tiles. Had he been more alert, he might have cried out. His sister was dragging her shopping trolley through the hall, into the living room and into the kitchen. He heard her greet his cleaner, Hola, who would by this time, if all was well in the world, have begun the ironing. Later, Hola would pack his suitcase for Sardinia. Anas had made her a list, though whether she would understand it was moot. Sometimes he felt he should be cherished, if not rewarded, as the last native English speaker in London.