23 November 2007

Dream


Match. Crouch uncertain on mobility vehicle. From goal-mouth, accelerates, right up into stands, conflagration.

As I pass a pub, a guy's jacket is caught by flames. He flusters, tries to remove it but the sleeves pinch his wrists. A friend comes out and pats the oxygen dead.

I'm looking up at a terrace. Don't point out the man rolled down every step, his outstretched arm an instinct long after his conciousness has failed. Two men lift him at the foot, walk him to a bench, sit him down and pass for sleeping beside him.

I stop in at a school shop (my school) to ask for food. The man, stiff, uncharismatic shakes his head. I say 'Fruit?' Suddenly he changes his mind and offers muesli bars.

As I walk, a woman on a mobility vehicle. A man with hippyish / retired hair speaks to her -'Marvellous to be mobile' - on a garage forecourt. I want to stay with these two.

'I want to get back quickly,' I tell Matt.
'Walk in the road in other words,' he says.
It's not what I meant.