Pinky’s Dream Awake

A view of freshly cut flowers an inch in-front of the sash window beyond the screen, early morning. May drizzle surrounding the exterior of the most beautiful of houses. Rain feeling novel as a reflect my current England, an England that looks elevated, like a Darjeeling rain cloud post monsoon. How far above sea level am i? Over one week since i returned from my self-induced exile from reality.Water running down pains suiting the elevated  melancholy.Melancholic.

Over a week since loved ones met me at the station in Whitney Houston masks, glitter throwing, music pumping hug providing hilarity. Over a week since i spent a night in Accident and Emergency. A week of doctors, hospitals and tests. Finally being diagnosed with PVL- positive Staphylococcus Aureus and Giardia Lamblia – once again a host, infested, little beasts, all washed down with a bottle of blue WKD. No more maggots crawling from inside my knee.

Over  a week since the circus came to town, tight ropeists and Dwarfs appearing in local shops between acts. I wonder how popular it has been due to a young boy being missing in the river. The circus not being the answer for a town in mourning. Lanterns glided off into the black distance with hope. Three days later his body was found.

Gliding around the streets in ski socks and vintage sandals, trotting on the ancient cobbles from house to house, from friend to friend. Short sharp bursts of creativity, open fires and complex salad preparations. Sitting by the misty river, the grand cathedral looming behind me. I am relived that people aren’t speaking backwards and special Agent Cooper isn’t here. Days in general feel a little Twin Peaks.

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