Sometimes I find myself in situations where I’ve no idea how they began; for example, yesterday I was in a flat that was my place of residence even though I had no recollection of having ever moved in. The interior was mildly decaying with cracks in the walls & a gap in the window frame where the rain came in. The room itself was a decent enough space, a loft with two opposing windows, one overlooking a semi fictional ‘West country’ skyline and the other overlooking a busy shopping street. I considered for a moment how I might enjoy a morning coffee whilst looking down on the street below.

I then realised that the days on which it would rain would pose problems as far as the damaged window frame was concerned. Fortunately, whoever my landlord was had had the foresight to apply a yellow plastic water duct beneath the window ledge and it seemed that the rainwater would flow its course along the pipe and evaporate somewhere else in a hatch in the wall or something.

I strolled around my vaguely alien flat & picked up a photograph that had been lying around on an old chest. It was a picture of a girl named Indi at someones party, reclined across wooden table, posing with an unlit cigarette. I wondered if the person sitting behind Indi was her mother then considered that Indi was the sort of person who looked much better without a tobacco prop. In this moment I felt a little disappointed at the foolish mistakes that young people make & put the photograph back down.

Later on I wandered down some vague kind of segue into the room of a black guy who looked reminiscent of the actor who plays Doctor Pratt in E.R. I’d somehow stumbled into his personal crisis , he was about to blow his brains out with a small white revolver because he was suffering the heartache of unrequited love. I consider now that this was a visually poetic image; a black man with a white gun. He slipped the stubby barrel into his mouth. Fortunately I managed to talk him down & out of his potential suicide, I think it was the simple interjection of reason ‘Is any girl worth dying for, just because she won’t love you?!’ This was reason enough . I noticed that on the wall behind the guy that there was a picture of the focus of his obsessions. I considered it strange that the girl was partially obscured in the image and that next to her was another partially obscured image of her twin brother.

I didn’t have long to consider this detail before I realised that I’d begun to drift , my attention snapped back when I realised that I was now standing in a courtyard belonging to a great medieval looking castle. Two floating alien entities that looked like blue spiky grubs covered in vaguely human looking eyes began to circle me as if to size me up for an attack. A man dressed in combat fatigues appeared at the side of the courtyard and slid a grey plastic gun across the stone floor to me. He yelled “Pick it it and shoot them!” I tried and the gun fired an arc of electricity into one of the blue creatures. It began to expand and bloat as the energy from the gun entered it. I felt a moment of brief triumph which promptly turned into panic as the gun seemed to fizzle out of power. I decided to run & find a place to work out how to recharge the damn thing. Finding a nearby alcove away from the blue monstrosities, I fumbled on the floor with the impotent electric weapon. I was feeling desperate, doom seemed so close to me, if only I could shift again…

And so it was, that I then found myself in a familiar continuum. It was Saturday.