The True Believer Dies In The Dream Of The Unborn Butterfly. Michael Deerfield Book
by Michael Deerfield

My name is James Haffner, and I began my sixty-sixth birthday by visiting my bucket and mop, my work colleague is the metal type on wheels. This is where I sing a happy tune, because it's good to finish work before I used to start, and it's good to be my own boss. Besides I no longer need to leave behind a fortune or dazzling possessions to my wife who died when I was thirty. My Wife's name was Ophelia and she lived her life to the fullest but died at the young age of twenty eight, she died from suicide and rhododendrons were her favourite flower, these I put on her grave today. And the words I spoke I don't know if it she heard. I don't even know about heaven. I mean I don't mind dying for ever and not waking up, but I hope it's not that way with Ophelia. I hope she hasn't died forever and I guess that everyone feels like that when they loose someone they love. I always visit Ophelia on my birthday and, it's nice there, peaceful and quiet. I could sleep forever with Ophelia, and if we wake up we wake up together again.

After visiting Ophelia I purchased some tins of this and can's of that. I then carried those tins and cans home in a brown paper bag that broke. And when the tins and cans fell on the pavement I invented a beautiful woman to help me pick them up. But that woman didn't need inventing because she already existed and we live together in a shared house and when we pass each other on the landing we exchange smiles and small talk. That woman's name is Nadia, she is Romanian and at least ten years younger than me. We live in a large Victorian house, number 5 Holloway Road, which is divided in to four bedsits. I have the largest bedsit on the first floor and Nadia has the smallest on the same floor. And as birthday luck would have it I met Nadia coming out of the bathroom, I tried not to let nerves get the better of me and mentioned I was making a chicken soup, and that my freezer box was full so would she care to join me as I hate throwing good chicken soup away, and besides it wasn't as though it was a proper date, it was just...well if she was busy I would understand naturally, but it was my sixty-sixth birthday, and if she wasn't busy, and then she started to laugh which made me uncomfortable, like I'd made a fool of myself, but then she said " See you at seven"

I am now in a panic, I need a small table cloth, I need red candles and I need spotlights. I can't do anything about the spotlights, but I can buy red candles, and a small table cloth, and then at last I can take a shower and put on some smart clothes. I couldn't do anything about my bald head but I brushed the grey hair hanging on my sides. Candlesticks, I forgot the candle sticks, who has a dinner party without candlesticks? And what if she is vegetarian? I hadn't thought of that, but then she didn't say she was a vegetarian. What about the aroma of the room? I need some of those Buddhist scent sticks. Oh come on this isn't even a date. Or maybe Nadia doesn't think this a date, but this is dream to me, please dream don't turn in to a nightmare. My mind is going crazy. I forgot music. Beethoven. What do I know about Beethoven? Only that Ophelia always listened to him. " Alexa, play some Beethoven " Now I need to buy chocolate. What chocolate? White chocolate, a box of chocolates and flowers, lots of flowers. The room needs flowers. What if she spends the night? I need eggs for breakfast, I heard somewhere that Romanians eat porridge for breakfast. She's not staying the night. Ophelia always said to say pin before candle and you will calm down. Ophelia why did you always say pin before candle? I think saying peg before candle is better. Ophelia why did you die? Why didn't you take me with you? Why didn't you stay? I would have provided more love than heaven ever could. Why am I talking to the dead?

Nadia entered my bed-sit wearing a red and white stripped polo and tight fitting blue jeans, with thick shoulder length brunette hair, and handing me a bottle of burgundy she gave me an affectionate hug,
and I blurted out " You are all the colours of the rainbow " and then my cheeks turned burgundy, because when you tell someone they are all the colours of the rainbow, it's the same as saying you like them...
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