Skip to main content

Sixty Five



In a complicated lake view complex, I am trapped in a lift. After somehow escaping, I am eating some terrible lemon cake, and go out on a log raft. I am convinced the raft will sink, but the pilot seems more concerned about me drinking alcohol on board. Later I visit a rundown zoo, similar to the knackered fun house in the original Max Payne game. Lin and Zo are there, and another man. We enjoy the zoo, but as we attempt to leave we are accused of theft. I escape, but everyone else is trapped inside. I attempt to remonstrate with the owners to no avail. The fences are too high for me to get in, and I have a vague memory of trying something similar in the past. Zo eventually escapes but is covered in cuts. Following some confusion in the car, someone gives me a hand job. Later still, I wander around the HF building. It is full to bursting with strangers watching the Belgian Grand Prix. There is also an art gallery attached. Inside I am charged six quid for a slice of oddly liquid cake. I see a strange stately home from an upstairs window, and outside meet an old tour guide who tells me a little about it. He is the spitting image of William Beveridge.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Seventy Four

  The city has been invaded by some sort of 14th century Shogunesque army. They've taken over the giant bathhouse/restaurant, akin to the one from the film Spirited Away. We attempt to retake it by crossing a bridge, carefully balancing on taught wires [I've been playing a lot of Ghost of Tsushima], but archers lean from upstairs windows: they fire down at us, and I see bodies plunge into the river below. I try and alternative tactic for entry, taking an alleyway behind the building, but before I am able to help I become entranced by the unusual intersecting pipework that criss-crosses the space . Staring dumbly at the patterns, I hear the battle continue in the distance.
Post a Comment
Read more

Sixty Eight

In some sort of wasteland, possibly Malton from urbandead but in reality. The buildings and general lay out of the space appears to be a grid system, dark green, crisscrossing and bisecting the land; it resembles a giant board game. The sky is muted orange, and I have a feeling there is something lurking in the increasing shadows that dusk has introduced. Someone who I am with shows me around their flat. From the window I see abandoned car parks, and in the distance lakes and mountains, though this view is partially obscured by smoke rising from refineries that seem to encircle the town. The light is falling away. No-one is on the street when I am taken to the next house. The view from the window is the other house. Each subsequent place I am shown around offers a view of the preceding property. I am caught in a loop of property viewing, with some unknown menace responsible for the trap I find myself in.
1 comment
Read more

Fifteen + Sixteen

Long pause between posts owing to house moving and a lack of internet connection for over six weeks. Most frustrating. The intervening period has however furnished me with some new and skewed meanderings inside the subconscious underworld. The first, as you can guess from the reference to a certain daily newspaper, is from a while ago. The second (a double post to make up for the absence) came from a book I found whilst packing that contains notes on a defunct record label, conversations not appropriate for verbal discussion and occasional nocturnal recollections. 15. A warehouse, not dissimilar to Asda, where everything comes in multicoloured stacked boxes. Most boxes hold copies of The Times. I tell someone that they're not selling because they're not as cool as the new Berliner format Guardian (depressing how sad I am even in dreams). Later, am on an island, a little like the one in Lost. At one point I even ask when Walt is coming back. There are a crack team of commandos a
3 comments
Read more