Monthly Archives: September 2004

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I dreamt that I was a murderer. Waking was horror itself, as I cast my mind back to the night before, focussed on the need to discover who was dead and dismembered before remembering that this was just the internal, the mind’s presentation of things past, imagined, or trying to comprehend, and that really there was no evidence to hide.

In the dream it was one of my friends. A fight. A victory. But such loss, and the realisation that I had to hide what I had done. And how?

This had been the dream. This was why I hadn’t slept well, the turbulence of my disturbed sleep waking her on so many occasions that, by the irony of morning, she was ready to kill me.

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She always did this, tried to find new routes or short cuts, and claimed that she was making time when I could see the seconds fall away in waste.

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We don’t need a short cut. We’ve got to get to the airport. The plane leaves in.. fuck.. come on.

In the back, the woman whose car Maggie had stolen was beginning to come out of her shock, and seemed to be trying to call the police on her mobile phone.

“This is a short cut. Its the only way we’ll make it.”

She turned back to the road, and looked straight into the eyes of an old man.

“Stop!”

The impact came in with the sound of the tires. We stopped. The man was in the middle of the road. Maggie and I got out of the car and rushed over to see him. His breathing was difficult. What to do? We looked at each other. Looked around. And saw the owner of the car driving away.

“Shit.”

We’d missed the plane, and now we were lost in a side street in Prague, surrounded by derelict buildings, and with our luggage and money rapidly driving out of sight in a car we’d hijacked. With a old man dying in front of us.

“Shit.”

That was when we first met Satana.

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run away

send an email

call a friend

take the rollercoaster

fly a kite

paddle

cut the grass

listen to music

read a magazine

paint a wall

break a window

kick the bin over

scrape the car

walk down the stairs

watch the waves break

write a blog

hold hands

buy some matches

get engaged

have a fag

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In Manchester there was a reverse bungee at Parr’s Wood entertainment and themed vomit fun-plex. Apparently it was the largest such bungee in Europe.

From the road, it looked like a giant catapault. £15 for certain death. At least, it would have been if I’d had a go. The cage would undoubtedly have come uncoupled, and I would have been catapaulted out into orbit, before re-entering the atmosphere as a burning sphere that would take out the post office in Glossop.

Because of my concern for the safety of others, and the pension collection needs of a local town, I didn’t have a ride.

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My take on the 2 minute project. Things may be shorter.

Say I love you

Read the Sun

Flick TV channels

Eat some chips

Smell flowers

Look at pictures

Sit in the sun

Swim a length

Have a beer

Talk to a friend

get undressed

Walk by the sea front

Surf the web

Foreplay

Boil and egg

Fill the car with petrol

Spin on a roundabout

windowshop

plan the future

have a wee

clean your teeth

Buy a ticket

Watch the sun set

Have a cigarette