Thursday, 14 September 2017

Electricity hums

Everything emits electricity these days. My gaze bounces off of screen, to wall, to phone and strobes always. My eyes are tired but they still work, thankfully. Drumming out a little tune with my fingers, a faint thrumming in the cockles of my heart like the heart-race flapping of a minor bird, caught. I see through the fat windows the rain drizzling, terrorising the lunch-breakers; making a run for it or sheltering under the Sainsbury’s. Tomorrow I will be off on holidays but today I am stuck, here in this undrenched room, in stifling heat with no evacuation coming soon although we wouldn’t want one, we’re lucky really to be sat here in this non-plussed silence looking down below at the soggy shoppers. Sandwiches shoved under arms. Free magazines turning to pulp. 

As I leave I see a rainbow, beautiful and beheaded by a galaxial axe. The seven coloured stumps shine without pointing me the way, but I appreciate it anyway, whilst an adolescent rat scuttles along the railings following my footsteps until I stop. Shoots up a drainpipe thinking I could pounce, not realising I have places to be, other than in bed with that rat. Drops of water fall and it makes such a difference to not be inside, to feel cold, or to feel even a little bit, alive.





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