May I offer you a little Otis Redding or Marvin Gaye?

Peach — I only have Flora on my soul, because it’s low in polyunsaturates. Or something.

rr — You can see my heart? Where? Where is it?

Rob — I’m going to buy one of those coffee tables. Are they available at IKEA?

Ariel — They are not sweeties. You are very naughty. Behave.

Bohémienne — Nobody is without a soul. It’s merely a case of ‘Back soon. Don’t wait up’.

Caite — Sorry, I cheated. It’s stock photography. They wouldn’t give me my actual X-ray.

Ani — Yes, I asked for whisky and weedkiller in tablet form.

Blueseaurchin — Avoid “marriage, murder and major purchases”. Well, I can promise the first two, but even the soul-impaired need retail therapy.

Miles Away — Your detailed recollection of my written archives is flattering, though possibly also slightly worrying.

Gordon — I visited a vet, yes. I am entirely clear of distemper now.

She DID call herself a doctor, didn’t she? You didn’t happen to visit a dentist or vet by accident…

And she calls herself a doctor?

You see inquiring about your soul and judging from your utter devastation experienced upon learning of its disappearance is proof that your soul is still hidden away in the confines of your body.

(Folding my hands on my desk and looking up in your eyes) Now without an x-ray I cannot tell you of its exact location. It appears it may be a shy soul, perhaps hiding somewhere deep inside or perhaps it is resting a bit so it has grown faint and is consequently less visible. If you have been abusing alcohol or drugs lately it may be less active in which also makes it less visible. If you feel it has been compromised momentarily I encourage you to hold off on any major decision such as marriage, murder or major purchases.

If you still feel anxious and believe that you may soul-impaired please come by again with your x-ray.

But admit it, you’re just upset because she didn’t prescribe something stronger.

I’d like to think I’m genuinely gazing deep within you.

If this were Mr Andreas Gardon’s site I’d feel the need to say FIRST! in an excitable, bold-fonted manner but as it isn’t Msr Jardinierre’s home I’ll just mention that all this time changing stuff confuses me.

Should I be in bed yet?

Some are louder than others but they’re all, ultimately, over-rated.

Avoid blogging, because it only leads to bouts of introspection and self-pity, which is a remarkably pointless and exhausting trial without a soul.

Seriously, I’ve been without a soul (and conscience) for years now. Just stay very, very busy. It keeps the empty feeling at bay.