All the phrases she could think of to do with dilemmas seemed spiky and harsh: between a rock and a hard place; the horns of a dilemma; in a cleft stick, no avoiding the discomfort.
Louisa had systematically cracked all her finger joints (again) and had returned to pacing the length of her small room whilst twisting bits hair round her right index finger when the doorbell rang. It was, she knew, Julia. She knew, because she had summoned Julia to help with the insoluble decision-making process. It is possible that Louisa had dramatized, maybe even over-dramatized her predicament, of this she was also aware.
After a restorative hug the two settled to their task
‘I’m so glad you could come round so quickly,’ Louisa managed to get out between sniffles.
‘Well of course I came, you’re my oldest friend,’ soothed Julia, at least she hoped it was soothing.
‘Oldest?’.
‘Look, we’re the same age. OK, my longest serving friend. Get us a couple of glasses, I’ve brought Prosecco and Pringles to help us get through this. Oh, and I promised to meet Charlie at 9 so we need to get this wrapped up before half eight’.
Prosecco was drunk and Pringles were munched as the skeleton of the dilemma and its potential for resolution were laid out for consideration.
Julia attempted, to no avail it must be noted, to de-escalate the problem:
‘It’s a matter of the road not taken. There will be regrets and doubts but at least you will have made a firm decision for one path. And it will be the path that seems to be the least painful’
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