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Thirty Two

A final post for the year, sent early to avoid my forgetting;

'I am planning a holiday with old Uni chums, in much the same way as the TDEER weekend happened. I have to travel in advance of the group by train to scope out where it is we are going. Whilst on the train it becomes obvious to me that I have forgotten completely. Never mind, I'm in Norwich suddenly, except it is The City's version of Norwich, so part St.Ives, part LA. I've reached the centre on the Uni bus, which I was inexplicably not charged for. A teenage couple behind me serenade each other, in a way not dissimilar to Palomino Molero in Llosa's book of the same name. When I disembark, I walk around and look at the long bearded men that seem to populate the promenade. Following a kid through some back streets I emerge at UEA, but an odd hydroponic style version where everything is under three inches of water. My camera won't work. When I try to take pictures with the faulty camera, a man holds a photo up in the way. Someone tells me that that is the secret of how the crime was committed. When I ask 'What crime?', I realise everyone has gone, and I'm alone on the darkened streets of what is an unfamiliar town. Looking at my watch, I know I'm late for my train.'
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