Skip to main content

Number 2

This was a classic example of my being in three states; 1) asleep and imagining this scenario 2) half waking and assuming it is happening in real life and 3) writing it down

'I am woken by the sound of something smashing outside the window in the room where I sleep. I don't pull back the curtain, as I know it is some sort of fire bomb, possibly constructed from a tennis ball and matchheads, like that found in a certain cookbook. In the morning, I am outside in the road, collecting bits of paper and detritus the bomb seems to have left in its wake. A Japanese girl is helping me clear the street. We appear to be cohabiting; I am unsure if there is a sexual relationship. She is wearing shorts and a tshirt, in a very 80's style, and explains to an elderly gentleman who happens to be passing what has happened. He mumbles something in Japanese that I cannot understand. I look at the details on his wrinkled face and wonder why I am living somewhere where I understand no-one. We live in a nondescript flat, around three stories up.'

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

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

Seventy Three

'Michael from season 4 of The Wire is trying to kill me. We drive through an abandoned city, weaving between wrecked cars, firing guns at each other. None of my shots make contact. In a scene reminiscent of the end of Heat, I follow Michael and his accomplice through something which resembles the Holocaust memorial. I shoot at Michael, and as he falls I continue to riddle his body with bullets. Despite there being a lot of blood it becomes apparent relatively early on that this is not Michael but a cardboard cut-out. I have a flashback to a similar incident where my partner was killed and inexplicably replaced my Matt Berry, dressed in a 70s-style outfit. He had a seizure and rolled around in the mud. Back at the memorial and I am pleading for my life and crying.'
Post a Comment
Read more

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