Thursday, 28 October 2010


I can see him in my dream walking away down a corridor. The corridor has dark stairs in shadow to the left hand side and dark and light spaces. The walls come in and go out in bright white and dark shadowed blocks. He's wearing a grey cardigan and the back of his head has dark mousy hair cut short.

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He turns to look at me, casting a glance over his shoulder and I meet his stare, our eyes lock. His head is covered in nodules, they look like large lumbs of gristle evenly spaced about an inch apart and half an inch in diameter. I can see from his eyes he is imploring me to remember his words and his eyes are cold like concrete. I've already forgotten what he said.

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