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Sixty Six and Sixty Seven

I missed a few months somehow (I blame late-stage PhD write up), so here are two to catch up. One is from relatively recently and the other is from some point midway through the last decade.



'On a large complex train, arranged like an Ikea store. There is, as always, nowhere to sit, but I had to catch this train. There was no other option. I move from carriage to carriage, vaguely aware of someone guiding my hand through the morass of dark green first class seats I am forbidden to sit in, and elongated Moroccan-style benches replete with sprawl-ing idiots. I eventually come across the red carriage, a sort of standard class area, but covered in beds with red duvets. There are people under the sheets but I am unable to see them. They wriggle around and make noise. By the exit, which I walk through, there is one bed with a corpse in it. What I assume is the final carriage contains a food shop like Ikea; it is only when looking out of the window that I realise I am actually in the station and the train is leaving. All my stuff is there.'



'In the room at The Rookery in St. Ives. Outside is all darkness and turmoil, inside a single light is on. We are told to wait. An end-of-the-world style situation. Somehow me and Chris have survived (I didn't even know he was here). Finally, after a Beckettesque wait, an elderly couple enter the room with bags of shopping. The end of the world is over; people can now shop again'

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