Lycanthropy for Beginners

My father wasn't a werwolf, just a man. He had hairs on his back and I sometimes imagined him wild and inhuman. That must have been my own desire or dread: Oedipus seeking forgiveness.

When he died I blamed myself. I spent the next fifteen years trying to expiate the crime in the darkest places: night factories and building sites, sad offices, hospital wards and psychiatric units. I called it work; it paid the rent; but it wasn't even survival.

When you love someone, there's nothing you can do - pretend or hide. Why waste a life attempting? Better to smash the glass and scream, even if it sets the fire engines racing.

Life isn't that dramatic. Love hurts, but there are no hospitals for that. Only truth, no matter how stark. And trust. Keeping faith. I love you, as I always have. Your death makes no difference.

You're out there  still, howling at the moon, my ghost and namesake.

Caught in a World Wide Web

I've just been "personally invited" to a complimentary webinar. "Do you currently leverage employee career development as a human capital management and business strategy?" the email reads. "If so, how is it impacting retention?"

As guilty far too often of such business-babble myself, I can hardly complain. I probably deserve to be bombarded by such crap from an anonymous  donor: like some ghastly verbal transplant that one neither asked for nor needed.

"Is it tied to internal mobility strategy, and aligning employees in the right positions?" the missive continues. "Do employees currently feel satisfied with the career development opportunities that your company provides?"

Is worker satisfaction, that tired old panacea, still kicking in the employment mortuary? As a sole trader, I can speak quite candidly for all my workforce.  Given the current climate, plus recent fuckups by business leaders and governments, I imagine they're just glad of a job.

Barking at Bougainvillea

Surfacing in the pool, in the shade of a lemon tree, I'm greeted by seven barking but friendly rescue dogs. Their owners, our friends here in Malaga, have saved them over the years from various degrees of torment. One a near-thoroughbread, was kept in a cage when not being put out to stud: a canine sex slave. They all swim too, which should be fun to watch. Looking round the bougainvillea-stained walls of this garden, I feel that barking, even for humans, is a natural response.

Definitely a dog's world.