In which Wal probably had the right idea

30 March 2008

I had to allow myself a bit of extra sleep this morning, despite the clocks going forward, as when I woke I wasn’t feeling particularly rested. Neither would you be if you’d been dreaming that you were on the run. I don’t remember who or what was after me, but I didn’t want to be caught, thank you very much. I was out near the main road that runs through my village when a friendly face appeared. Lindy, with her family tagging along, talked to me for a while until her husband Wal decided they absolutely had to go, because it was just too dangerous being around me.

They walked to a nearby house (a dreamland conglomeration of two real houses) and went inside with Lindy’s daughter calling my name from her pushchair. That’s sweet, I thought, I didn’t know she knew my name. I couldn’t give it too much more thought though, as I was preoccupied with what I was now doing. That is, raking through a dustbin. Inside was the rotting top of one of my pumpkins I had discarded months before and … all manner of other compostable materials.