168 - A God, Washing

Lin

I managed to change clothes today after a long period of wearing the same outfit.

Ya, it's gross, but I feel unsafe using the communal facilities in the house to wash myself, so I ended up using facial wipes for my 'washing' instead.

Somehow, I also brushed my teeth.

Obviously I felt the need to clean myself for some reason - possibly because it's the start of the month?

Honestly, I've still been dwelling on my anger around bin boy and what he did to me.

Abuse really did try to rear its ugly head in my direction again, and it's about time I start rejecting it for something better.

My friendships and my relationships with the rest of my neighbours and caseworkers are relatively healthy, and much better to look upon.

Though even they need some improvement, but then again, they almost always do for consistent relationships like that.

But for the first time in a while, I actually felt what might be excitement for my potential future.

Part of me thought it was anxiety, but it didn't feel unpleasant enough to be it, so I assumed it was something between anticipation and excitement.

Come to think of it, me not looking forward to much probably sounds morose.

Whilst it kind of is, I've grown used to it.

Either way, I know at some point, the end of this lonely time will be in sight.

Aye, lad. You'll get out of there.

Dia duit, Sweeney.

He smiles.

Learned some Gaeilge since, eh?

My Gaeilge is not very strong. Please don't test me.

He laughs, ruffling my hair and taking a seat alongside me.

Don't worry, I won't.

He fishes a packet of Marylands out of his bag. I raise an eyebrow.

What's with the Marylands? 

Well, I know, but first Sedna gives me some, now you do as well.

Not that I'm not grateful - they make me feel far less homesick.

Ye need the spiritual interaction, lad.

When I tilt my head in confusion, he continues.

What I mean by that is that they're essentially equivalent to small interactions with people and spirits from part of your ancestry. The ones Sedna gave ye are from the Baltimore line, so both people who moved during the colonial period and your Native American ancestors.

The ones I've giving ye are specifically for your Gaelic and Gaulish lines, because you're very disconnected from them and it's causing a very heavy imbalance for ye, lad. 

I nod slowly, taking two from the packet he patiently offers me.

Go raibh maith agat.

I take a bite of one, and instantly feel myself standing in a looming city, Colosseum standing tall over me, mingling with the shadows of passers-by. Then I blink, and I'm back.

Ye went backwards, didn't ye?

I nod.

Do ye want to talk about it?

I hesitate. It's not really a memory I have much grip on, but if it can help me get closer to my family, and doing my job as a God, I should at least mention some of what I saw.

I saw Rome.

Ah.

For a minute, we sit in silence.

Modern, aye?

I nod.

Early 00s.

He nods.

It wasn't your fault. Ceart go leor?

Pinpricks turn to tears in my eyes.

Ceart go leor.

We embrace, the smell of grass and peppermint smacking sense into me, somehow. For a long while, we sit that way. Then, he offers me another Maryland, which I accept.

I'll stay tonight. Are ye good with me telling your father?

I nod.

Great.

He tosses the throw over me as he gets up.

Terrence! Yer wife needs ye!