Hello, I’m Lssl and I’m on my way to meet with my friend Mzzy. When Mzzy’s husband died, she became deeply depressed. Mzzy didn’t really have any friends – people tended to be a bit wary around her. The problem is that my friend Mzzy is a terrible gossip and you have to watch what you say in her presence. I first became her friend primarily because she seemed so lost and alone, but I have come to really value her friendship. There is no malice in her, nor any filter, she just opens her mouth and lets all her thoughts fall out.

Unfortunately, left to her own devices, she gets things pretty wrong and there have been some misunderstandings as a result.

The funny thing about Mzzy is that she thinks she is not gossiping as she spreads unsubstantiated rumour or repeats half-heard conversations. And I must confess that “not gossiping” with Mzzy is sometimes a very amusing pastime and I must often check myself to ensure that I am not gossiping back. I see my role as a guide to Mzzy, to steer our conversation and manage the gossip to ensure that no harm is generated. Many’s the time I have had to clear up some “intel” she has come by (usually though her own wild assumptions) before she has a chance to spread potentially not-so-nice hearsay. Take the case of poor Mr Jxx and his unfortunate mushroom incident. After Mr Jxx wandered lost and confused (and totally starkers) into town, Mzzy told me that she had heard that Mr Jxx was starting up a religious cult that eschewed clothing (other than boots and floral adornment presumably) and had come into town on a recruitment drive. Poor Mr Jxx, whose failing eyesight was well known, had mistakenly picked hallucinogenic mushrooms from his paddock and eaten them on his morning toast. He had no idea what happened after breakfast, although he now no longer eats mushrooms as he thinks they give him strange dreams.
I think that there have been times when Mzzy’s gossiping has been manipulated by some of the townsfolk to good effect. Mr Brt once told Mzzy, “in strictest confidence”, that his mother’s 100th birthday was impending, but she didn’t want anyone to know. Well, I must say that for someone who didn’t want anyone to know about her centenary, Old Mrs Brt looked mighty pleased with all the cards, flowers and presents that she received and with all the people who came to wish her well, it turned out to be quite the party. Mr Brt told me later that it was better than having a town crier as this way, he could surprise his mother.

Ah, there’s Mzzy waving to me. No, she’s flapping her arms and beckoning me to hurry up. Oh dear! This can only mean that she has something she is dying to tell me. Once more unto the breach, dear friends…