Postcard from the edge



“I woke up and stared into the grey, my eyes watering and flickering, because something was moving, and before I knew it, Suzette and a choir boy in an eighties sweatshirt came dancing round the corner, hotfooting in slow motion around my room like something from a silent movie, he half her size, and she, no doubt, training him for the delusional glory of a teen Appollo, her rough profile against the light as they turned, holding their heads high, his head inches from her bosom.  And for a moment I wanted to switch on the light and breathe, except that in the dream I knew there was another bed on the other side of the room, where she slept, and I couldn’t wake her, I had to keep still, a conviction which gradually faded as I realised where I was and what period of my life I had woken in.”

{postcard received from & with thanks to kai}


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