Consumed by The Fear, the leaden knot in the pit of the stomach, the Charlie Brown raincloud lingering overhead.
You probably haven’t noticed, but I’ve not published any fiction since Friday. I didn’t mean to take a break, but for some reason, it felt the right thing to do.
I was a camper. Everyone hated me.
OMG NOOB CAMPER QUIT CAMPING U FAG.
Finding a quiet corner of the map – or a dark spot in a busy corner of the map -and picking off passers-by was, apparently, not cool.
Anton has had a good month. His energy consumption is down and his reputation capital has doubled after volunteering at the Sunnyside Nursing Home. Content, he relaxes into his fabricated Eichholtz Goldoni armchair, swipes off his retina display and shuts his eyes.
Well, 108 days into this adventure, I thought I’d give an update on where I am, if only to collect my own thoughts and ensure I’m remaining focused.
I’ve had two lovely surprises over the last seven days.
One day there is a dead fox in the road outside the school. It is all opened up, inside out.
Jake removes his Bose headphones and stashes them in his rucksack as he turns into the estate. He needs every sense down this end of town where, lit by a full moon, giant concrete Tetris shapes litter the landscape, vomited up out of the ’60s architectural nightmare.