They're in the feelings...the small things...

Roy's story isnt in the big things, its in the small things. The spit bubbles and the Love-in-Tokyos. The fountains and the puffs. The beige coloured shoes where the angry feelings come from. Bottles of bottled youth. Suppressed emotions, anxieties, fears, dreams...all coming together in the same vat of boiling banana jam. Paradise Pickles and Preserves.

I can see shades of my childhood. The movie theatre not the multiplex. The Goldspot, not the Mirinda. The comic books and the abridged classics. The notebooks with my best handwriting at the start of the year and my worst writing towards its end. Summer vacations with cousins and grannies. The heat of the dusty playground bringing more joy and satisfaction than the first drizzle of June, indicating school-time was just around the corner. Pangs to grow up resulted in pangs to go back to the safe womb of childhood, one that insulated you from work, salaries, taxes and hunger to own something you cant afford. From the race of rats.

Roy's brought all those things back with her God of Small Things.