Or is it?

Well, yes.
Much like Herman, Tenstal was also experiencing fits of unnecessary rage.
"It says I must click on personalise," Tenstal said slowly, his left eye twitching and a thin line of drool falling silently and unnoticed from the corner of his mouth.
"Huh?" Herman jerked the tea pot as he stepped backwards out of reflex. Everything he did these days seemed to be out of reflex and it incensed him to no end.
"I must find personalise, and then... what was it?" Tenstal ducked his head over to the mound of papers all piled haphazardly on a filing cabinet next to his desk. "Was it sonify?"
Herman said: "My cousin tried to make a love robot a number of years ago-"
"Program!" Tenstal called out happily, causing Herman to jerk his teapot upwards, hitting the low wooden ceiling beam.
"OWWWWWW!"
Hot tea splashed all over his leather-clad foot. "GOD DAMMIT! IT DIDN'T WORK, DID IT? THE BLOODY ROBOT SHORT-CIRCUITED MIDWAY AND NOW ITS BOTTOM IS BEING USED AS A FLOWERBED!"
"Personalise... then program..." Tenstal clicked. "Oh, Herman, are you making tea?"
"I BLOODY WELL AM NOT!"
However, Herman considered his options. He was, after all, holding a half-filled tea pot with boiling water inside, and he did enjoy handing out goodwill in the form of food and beverage. The only thing stopping him was a vision.
Yes, that vision.
It had happened four days prior to this ill-fated-foot-event, and it had involved a woman. Such a thin, ghostly form this woman had taken, that Herman spent a whole twenty minutes conversing with her about the horse stables down the track before realising that she was, indeed, alive, and therefore uninterested in a permanent place to set up her flourishing haunting business.
Tricked, I was, he thought bitterly as he spooned in heaped helpings of herbs. Played for my handsome features. Why! Surely a moment gazing at my face is worth more than a whole teacup of gold and silver, together!
Her name was Avery and she had come from the 'Peyying Gates', whatever that meant. Herman had no idea. One minute he had been sweeping the porch in a somewhat serene stupor (as it was baking day at Tenstals house and Tenstal always produced bewitched goods), and then the next, he had felt a light tap on his shoulder that made him squeal like a girl and topple into his swept-up pile of leaves.
"Why does everyone show such femininity when I present myself?" Avery had asked in a whisper.
Herman had scrambled up, spluttering on a taste of sharp pine, burnt wood, and a waxy syrup, and laid eyes upon the thinnest, palest, softest woman with the widest eyes and thinnest, longest, whitest hair he had ever seen.
"Excuse you!" he had rasped by accident.
Avery stared.
"I- I-" he tried to grasp a hold of what little dignity he had left, but it laughed at him from afar and sped off into the night, leaving Herman to display his wrinkled vulnerability instead.
"I'm looking for a young ma-"
"Oh! I don't think so!" Herman cut off shrilly. "I'm afraid no one lives here! At all! This is just an old house that needs a sweep from time to time..." he could feel his chest tighten.
Avery stood very still, like a photo. Only her pale hair moved, slowly, gently, in the lazy evening breeze. Her eyes searched over Hermans face with minimal interest.
"And I'm- they asked me, the councilman that is, asked me to sweep, and, so, they know where I am! I am on a register!" Herman's voice ascended higher and higher, until he was terrified it would disappear into the astral plane of no return. Trying to gain control of any part of this situation, he gave a quick cough to loosen his throat. "I have many friends!"
Avery tilted her head ever so slightly. "Do you?"
"Oh yes! A very lot of them!"
"I used to have a-"
"But they're down at the pond!" Herman cried, as shrill as ever. "So I should think they will return brisk and with all haste!"
Suddenly, Avery smiled a small, tight smile. It looked overused and easily accessible, as if she had spent a lot of time showing it off but virtually no time caring for it or allowing it to grow. This observation calmed Herman deep into his trembling core.
"I'm looking for something," she said while staring off vaguely at something over his shoulder.
He stepped forward. "Yes! You must be. And I know just the place."
And I very well did! He thought savagely to himself as he stirred the star-painted teacup furiously. How could I be helped? Not knowing she had never haunted anything in her entire life, because she was HUMAN?!
"BUT WHAT DOES 'OPEN FILE' MEAN?!" came Tenstal's yell of frustration.
"TOOTIN RIGHT!" Herman yelled back. "THE WORLD IS BLOODY MAD!"

Meet back here in an hour?

Time has crept along around me, like a shout carried by rough winds that take a while to reach the recipient.
I have been like Avery and Quintus both.. soft and slow like Avery, yet rushing and continuously panicked like Quintus.
It is tiring!
But I have been making progress. And isn't that what Avery is all about? She tries her hardest to accommodate- or maybe she doesn't try hard at all and just merely attends to the needs of others in a wistful way while coming across as accommodating since no one else bothers to try- and when times get tough, she climbs the mountain to meet them.
Quintus on the other hand is sort of soft and slow even though he gives off great energy. He wouldn't dream of climbing any mountain, let alone face his challenges or stare a foe in the face.
I don't blame him, to be honest, but I feel a little let down by him sometimes. I believed he had an amazing story to tell, but all he did was fall in love. But I mustn't dwell in this fictional land that sounds actually quite awesome and I kind of want to live there also.. I must fly free! Catch a cloud! Whip up some Positive Batter and fling it down at random people much like that monkey in that show.

A lot of my time has gone into watching tv and staring at my phone. Yes, I have a new job where I collect blood, work in hospitals, and somehow, even after carefully constructing my schedules, wake up even earlier than I ever did before. That's right! Starting work at 6am, much like my previous job, in an area CLOSER TO MY HOUSE, unlike my previous job, now requires me to wake up at the ungodly hour of 4.30am. I feel like most of the reason is due to parking, and the unreasonable '2 hour TICKET parking from 9-5' signs that I must deal with on a daily basis.

I have signed up at a gym! And I have gone! About six times! AAHAHAHA good times. But for real, it is good times, because the after-workout-buzz that hits the next day is phenomenal. It's also bad times because most of the time I can't be bothered going.

^__$


My days consist of blood, needles, forms, arms, and the occasional spelling mistake. They also consist of birds lured in by the way of purchased birdseed, ever-growing number of plants, street signs, cafe-style coffee, pants the size of a tent, and the odd chest pain/light arm/emergency ECG.
All the swell, all the time.

~ Adios


But there's a scream inside that we all try to hide..