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Entry 5: The return of Beat Notz

This week saw the re-emergence of my best mate Beat Notz. No one on Ketsbaia has to my knowledge seen or heard from Beat in well over two months.

There were rumours that she’d managed to get herself caught on something but this was copiously denied when I bumped into her in the queue at Sprout Finance yesterday (they also sell sprouts and other groceries, see, a bit like your Marks and Spencer’s). People tend to keep clear of Beat as she is notoriously bad tempered and has been accused of being a loud-mouthed drunk. A bit undeserved I think, though she has managed to get herself banned from the town centre for persistently shouting profanities at children and pigeons.

But she’s got a kind heart.

Beat looked like she’d been dragged backwards through a hedge. She said she hadn’t eaten in days, and her jumper had a large snag in it near the collar on the back. Between you and me, I think she may well have managed to get caught on something, maybe a tree branch or a jagged rock, even though she’d never admit it. She used to do a lot of rambling during her “nature” days (she’s a surrealist painter you see).

I’ll never forget the day I asked her what surrealist painting actually was. She picked up a large pot of Dulux wall paint and emptied it over my head. Then she used a hammer and cracked my right arm in three places, explaining to me “I call this one Cracked Arm Forest Green.

I nodded enthusiastically in agreement from inside my pot, lest she think about “creating” a follow up.