As my lady wife and I were walking along the high street at A—-, we saw two women chatting. They didn’t look particularly distraught, but as we passed them, we overheard one of them say “I am emotionally traumatised.”
Such snippets are grist to the mill for the writer.
Many years later, we were standing in the line for the checkout. The lady behind us was speaking very softly into her mobile phone. Suddenly, at a volume far greater than necessary, she announced to the person she was speaking to:
“After this I have to arrange for the helicopter to pick Lara up and take her back to school for the prize-giving ceremony.”
I whispered to Mrs F (though she tells me that my “whispers” are more like stage asides, and that because I’m barrel-chested I have a voice like a foghorn, and should have been an opera singer), “I’m feeling emotionally traumatised.”
The lady behind us walked away, speaking at a more normal volume.