I'm not really here
Join Date: Aug 2006
Well, quite. I can't arrive at a decision.
On the other hand, I'm awake early after a horrible dream. I was in a queue at an open air event for a stall selling food. There were a couple in front of me, and in front of them the queue was long. Wait, it gets worse. A woman shuffles into the queue ahead of the couple who say nothing. I call her out and she comes to the back of the queue behind me. She presses and shoves disconcertingly against my back. I ask her to stop. This continues for some time. During the process I'm aware that the woman in the couple in front occasionally slows or stops, obviously deliberately, so that I bump into her slightly.
The queue splits into two serving points as we approach the stall. The couple, wordlessly, go to the right. I go to the left, but the bloke serving is busy round the back. I cast my eyes upon a pretty unappetising edifice of pies. Eventually he returns and the woman from behind is gone, but a burly fellow has pulled up to the counter, catches the eye of the serving bloke. I interrupt and explain that I am next, and people in the queue can attest to that. Nobody does, but the server, rather reluctantly, turns to me and gets me my fish and chips. Words are had with the burly fellow who falsely accuses me of cutting in.
When my food comes the burly chap reaches out and takes it. I've already paid. This is distressing. I try to talk with him but he is rude and he is teaching me a lesson. Threats are exchanged, and this is initiated by him. He begins to open the wrapping. I ask him to desist. He refuses and is more abusive.
Instinctively I aim a short sharp glance to his jaw and he crumples in a heap. I pick him up, and note that nobody appears to have noticed. We're in a pub now, and I pop him onto a bench. He looks asleep, but I'm worried that he is dead.
I scarper. I'm wearing children's slippers and I am wandering the streets where my maternal grandparents once lived. There is glass on the streets. Bottles have been smashed. I'm not wearing the slippers anymore, and my feet are in socks. I put the slippers back on. I lean against a pebble dashed wall to do so, and note some sort of amusement arcade over the road. Some kids in fancy dress walk into the street.
I walk past them, and realise my bike was left in one of the lanes further up the road, and head in that direction. I enter an indoor market and get caught up in the hustle and bustle. I overhear talk of a death, I exit as soon as I can without making a fuss.
Walking the streets a little more I begin to reconcile myself with the prospect of being arrested for an unlawful killing, and begin to ponder the consequences of my family. Momentarily I consider my browser history.
I wake at 4:39am.
I'm thinking I've probably wasted a few quid on that Google dongle if I'm looking at clever tellys, haven't I?