The descent began. Over the edge he went, feet first. To the left, the shining screens beckoned with jumping cats, new TVs and even cheaper flights to the holiday of your dreams. He looked away. He looked ahead, or rather, downwards. Nobody else around, just him, the shining steel and hardened rubber handrail.

He stared. The shadow unblurred itself into the light… and ascended, almost floating up the escalator. She wore a thin red scarf, a black leather jacket, a short dress and… DMs? A small beret of… a raspberry colour? (more…)

He couldn’t sleep.
It was too hot.

He had to keep a glass of water by the bed.

The sound of the Nightingale
was anything but a lullaby.

He had developed sensitivity to light,
and would wake up at the smallest morning sunray-
a tiring wake up call.

He bought an eye mask
and foam ear plugs,
finally able to cut himself off from the world.

He was able to sleep.

He didn’t hear his alarm in the morning.

When he awoke,
he stretched,
and knocked over the glass of water.