Accidents, Geography and Weather Conditions

October 1983. It is drizzling and I am running up Devon Street. There is no wind, and the temperature is irritatingly lukewarm. There is nobody on the street, a solitary car is cautiously negotiating the central bend in the winding road and I turn my head as it passes, not wanting to be seen crying. This is a petty attempt at normality, I want to lie face down on the wet pavement, I want to mortify myself. I see her small, powerful hands (even in fists I love them). Ailsa, who will try to strangle my sister at the party that night, has finally tested my patience. It is all quite accidental: that we ever met, that I loved her, that I couldn't keep her while also keeping myself intact. It is an unfortunate accident that she never speaks to me again. I find, almost incidentally, that I continue to love her for the next seven years (though hardly exclusively).

Did it ever occur to you that while nearly every emotional need was satisfied by the imaginary game (by Starfire and Vlad in love, Carlin and Cassandra married, with a daughter etc), there were a few loose ends? My character Erzebet never did have a lover in a game in which the romance figured large. Why was that? I was good at love, yet she stayed single, exercising her frivolous wit, passing time. It is only now that I realise how much I wanted her to have a lover, but she was the only lesbian character in 12 years of imaginary game playing. And I couldn't invent anyone for her; after all, it took two to create lasting love affairs, even in the Game. Poor Erzebet. I lovingly narrated her past sexual indiscretions, described her languor, her beauty, her wealth. She became the last major character that I would invent, known as a good friend to Starfire, more loyal for being impervious to his sexual charm.

But back in 1983 (before October and the accidents of geography) there page 161 was a time when I didn't stay home much, when we never got time to play. I would come home at odd hours, with a hyperactive Ailsa in tow. And Leguama was invented, the third and last of the imaginary games I would play. Ailsa and Madeline took parts and we were amazed that they were 'literate' in narrative, that they didn't excuse themselves quickly to another room, another house, a hasty change of channels to comforting reason.