A Fellow from Philae

    

            ‘Dedushka! Dedushka!’

            ‘Not now, Hannibal. I’m writing.’

            ‘You’re what?’

            ‘See this? It’s a piece of paper. This? A fountain pen. Given to yours truly by good old Sammy Beckett himself. Penned Godot with it. What? No, not Beckham, you oaf! Beck--… Never mind! Paper. Pen. Put tip of pen on paper. Draw letters…’

            ‘Oh, you’re texting, on a hard page. I heard of that. Didn’t know you could do that. How awesome…! Wait till the girls hear!’

            ‘Oh blimey… Anyway. You interrupted me with a vengeance. So let’s have it. What was the great rush that forced you to storm into my silent retreat?’

            ‘You mean: start again?’

            ‘That’s what I mean.’

            ‘Okay. Dedushka, Dedushka!!!’

            ‘Hannibal! What a pleasure to see you in my study during working hours! What can I do for you?’

            ‘Dedushka: you have a reader!’

            ‘A reader?’

            ‘A reader!’

            ‘So?’

            ‘Well, aren’t you glad?’

            ‘Young man, I’ve had hundreds upon thousands of readers. I outsold Graham Greene with my Down the Wadi with Seven Wives. He never forgave me. Turned all brown in the face when we met next. So readership? I’ve had readership aplenty… Trouble is they’re all dead now. I’m like that fellow that scribbled the last hieroglyphs on the Philae temple wall. Great line, but nobody left to read it…’

            ‘But that’s what I mean, Dedushka! Your plight is over! You have a blog reader. Somebody looked at your blog yesterday!’

            ‘Looked. You said “looked”. Don’t try to fool a frail old man. Did he read it?’

            ‘I don’t know…’

            ‘Why not?’

            ‘Well, the stats don’t tell you that. They can’t.’

            ‘So what good are your “stats”? Try this one on for size: “Hannibal, Hannibal, did you do your homework today?” – “Well, papa: I looked at it but I didn’t do it.”’

            ‘But-…’

            ‘Or better still: “Hey, Hannibal: did you ball that girl last Saturday?” – “Well, José, I looked at her. Awesome, right?”’

            ‘Dedushkaaa…!’

            ‘Git yourself out of here, you brat. And next time you storm into my study while I’m working, make sure you have real news.’

            ‘You’re a nasty old jerk.’

            ‘So pray your parents don’t have an accident. If they do, your jerky old Godfather will get to raise you.’

            ‘When Hell freezes over!’

            ‘Indeed. Now shoooo.’

            ‘With pleasure. Anyway, what you “writing”?’

            ‘A short article for the blog on how the banks and the beurocrats are demolishing democracy in Greece. As soon as its ready I’ll bring it to you kids at this girl’s house… What’s her name again?’

            ‘Palmira…’

            ‘Her. Then you can read it out, Ivana can type it in and Patricia can post it.’

            ‘I don’t know if there’ll be time for that… But I’ll look at it…’

            ‘Don’t make me tell your parents where you keep your favourite reading matter. If that blog is not posted by tomorrow noon, I know a troop of playboys that’ll be hustled out of their penthouse at the speed of light!’

            ‘You wouldn’t dare…’

            ‘You wouldn’t dare try me…’

It is a veritable pleasure, dear reader, to work closely on a worthwhile common project with a devoted team of young collaborators. Yes, it makes an old man’s heart rejoice! (Blood pressure 115 over 95 today).