The day starts normally.

1. A man stands in front of an advert for a car on a billboard. He examines the new car that is being advertised. He is thinking of the latest technological advances it has; he is imagining he is driving it, if it would be a pleasure, if people would notice him.

A man stands in front of a landscape painting with a car. It is a realistic painting. He feels as though it is real. He reaches his hand out to the painting to open the door of the car. He thinks that the road is real and that the road is going somewhere.

A man passes by a car in the street and turns to cross over. The car blocks his way, He tries to get through the gap between the parked cars but there isn’t a space wide enough for him to squeeze through. He takes out a spray can and he sprays the windows with black paint.

2. I am chasing my voice. How far away is it? I cannot hear it at all, is it behind the distant ruins, fields and the hills?

There was an explosion, an explosion of pointless hatred. I could feel it; it was like a cannon shell that hit me dead centre. My voice alone escaped, a sound flew away, a sound of impossible pain that darted out of the impact zone like a terrified bird.

I was a dead boy, a battlefield victim. I was the black hole in the ground. My life clung to the sides like soup.

The tweezer birds came and picked up very piece of me and put me back together. They found every torn part of me and reassembled me inside the crater. I crawled out, I tried to scream. I tried to shout out. I had everything but my voice. My voice had gone and I didn’t know where or how to find it.

3. Things keep falling from windows, from tables, from clothes hangers. I pass by a washing line and the clothes on the line fall off.

I am in a library. I go to pick up a book from the shelves and it falls to the floor. Another book on top of the shelf falls from a book stand. Then another book falls out of the space of the first book.

I am in a restaurant. I am ready to eat. I pick up the knife and fork. The salt cellar falls to the floor I go to pick it up and the mustard jar galls to the floor. I bend down awkwardly to pick both up and the vinegar bottle falls and breaks. I straighten up and leave.

I am in the kitchen making tea and toast. I open a packet of tea. The tea bag falls to the floor. I go to pick it up, the toast pops out of the toaster I go and I take the toast out of the toaster and I drop the toast on the floor.

I go out. I go to the tube station. I search for my travel pass. I take it out of my pocket. My keys fall to the floor. I go to pick them up, people surge forward to catch the train and I drop my travel pass.

I look up at the skyscrapers. First I see a folder fall out of a window. Then I see a box of pencils followed by a bundle of toilet paper. Then I see someone leaning out of the window and they fall out. Suddenly moving arms are sticking out of the windows trying to catch the falling woman. She grabs one but her momentum pulls him out of the window and they both fall. Attempting to lean out of as far as possible many people lose their positions and start falling then the whole skyscraper is covered in falling people.

4. I go into the courtroom. The judge is a big angry cat. The attendants and assistants are  big angry cats. The prosecutor and the barrister are both big angry cats.

I leave the court and go down a corridor and up a winding staircase. I come to a hatch and I look inside. I see a decomposing corpse and I go to look for an officer.

I find someone in an officer’s uniform but the man himself is invisible. I open a large church door and he is sucked in by a strong wild wind.

I walk out of the courthouse to the grounds. Several strangers are following me at a distance. In my mind I can hear their thoughts. Get him. Stop him. Don’t let him get away.

I run for my life.

A huge crowd of men are running after me. My feet do not touch the ground as I run. I realise that I am not getting anywhere. The huge crowd is on top of me. I want to wake up.

Published by blackbird212012

I wish to develop as an artist songwriter.

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