I’m in a wine shop, not my own, helping out, being managerial, questions about whisky, I end up purchasing several bottles of bourbon.
For a moment, the bar in a hotel I’ve visited several times in the past. Drinking whisky, I am no doubt wearing a suit.
This is irrelevant.
I’m in my house, or at least some structure approximating my house, there are too many people here, I feel trapped. Everyone is on mushrooms, at least I am, there are children present who are far more interesting to me than the tedious adults losing their minds. This is no longer my house, I am a stranger here.
I step outside, to get some air and a lamp illuminates the garden with indescribable beauty, I want to go back, to tell them what they are missing, tell them how wasted their time inside is, but I can’t.
There is a couple outside, sitting on the bench (what bench?) who won’t listen to me. They can’t see, it’s as if the garden is self contained, the looming night sky separated from us by a pane of glass, the glow from that lamp creating this vision of a world only I exist in.
I run.
Into the morning, along a road, past houses and shops, losing sense of myself. I want to run outside of me, let go of everything. I get to the train station, keep running, along the platform, a group of teenagers pass me and fall onto the tracks, halting me. I stop and watch as they pick themselves up.
A friend catches up to me, explains in vivid, haunting words I can’t recall why this can’t go on.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply