I was clearly in a very strange place when writing this piece.
Walking down the steps to the ground floor, of my single level caravan, I folded my arms to greet the old day. I hurriedly pulled off my shoes that I had worn all my life and yanked the cat’s tail that tickled my nose. Once I placed my cap upon my shoulder, I then felt ready to venture out into the house.
The first thing that I found, was an old CD from an unreleased band. I placed it on the player (that also played vinyl by the way) and let it roll. It didn’t go all that far of course, due to the fact that anything that rolled gathered no stone, and anyone should know that no Stone means no ‘Start.me.up’.
I felt something hitting my leg and bent in an attempt to remove the Jones who had laid camp there over night as their present place of worship was being converted into a multi-single drive-way that basically led up the garden path. This movement made me quite dizzy so I stood up to gain my composition. While the world slowly steadied itself, I heard the distant sound of yelling near my ear. Overcome with a sudden desire to feel another’s face under my hand, I turned and saw a reflection of myself that smiled before running away.
I felt quite lonely as I watched myself disappear into the distance of the glass. All of a centimetre away and it was still to far. Too far a barrier for me to cross.
Ignoring the transparent image of the mirror, I decided to switch on the box which as usual did nothing. You see I have this box. I keep it in the comer of the room. It never really does anything, but I wanted one when I heard everyone else had them. Every now and then, I switch it on so as I too can ‘watch-the-box’. Yet I can’t see the great attraction.
As things always go, I quickly bore of ‘watching-the-box’ and ventured inside to see the world.
The sun shone brightly and my shadow flickered back and forth. This was because two very large African Bears were playing volley-ball with the sun. It was a very noisy game marked by loud bellows of pain each time one bear hit the sun.
Hmmmmm…… I think I went out the wrong door. I should really avoid the children’s fantasy during the funny season. It’s not really a very safe place. Yet I see the day drawing to a close. The coloured crayons themselves are near used, which can only mean that the colour is about to f de. Soon th d y w ll b n th ng b t bl ck. n by n th c l rs f d , ‘t ll th nly th ng l ft s ……………………………….
Written by Jeffrey Watkins 1995