I proceeded to walk towards the pub where I was to meet a few friends, a few friends I had not seen in a long time. It was to be great. Drinks, chat, more drinks, more chat, that kind of thing until I spotted Ian, the local scourge barging into our group like a bowling ball cracking through the pins. I wouldn’t mind but he didn’t even drink alcohol. I would have forgiven him if he did, you know, understood there was a reason for his annoyance. He was the happy one, the one that never shut up. He was intoxicated with the exuberance of his own verbosity which completely muted our conversation while he went on for hours, listening to his own high pitched voice.
Back in the room, I was now standing closer to the door as I thought hard about my night and I suddenly had a deeply disturbing flashback. It was one that you find hard to understand and wonder if it was in fact your dream and not a ‘true’ memory. It was so vivid though, but why would I have been on a train? My thought process now went into overdrive. I remembered that after the train had left the long, dark tunnel, I couldn’t help but notice the wide eyed chimpanzee that had joined me in the carriage of the train. What train? Forget the train, what monkey??? Jack Johnson’s song, ‘Upside Down’ came into my head and as I hummed along I remembered the episode of Curious George I had seen the morning before where he travelled alone for the first time on public transport and so the chimp on the train thing must have been a dream. A weird dream, but a dream none the less. Thank heavens for small monkeys, I mean, mercies!!! As I nervously pulled the door back towards me and poked my head around to see what was outside, if anything, I heard a strange question coming from the next room. Luckily, it wasn’t aimed at me. ‘Are those nomads still camping out in your garden?’ the voice of a female asked. As curious as George, I waited patiently for a reply hoping, firstly it was a voice I recognised and secondly, to find out a bit more about the nomads!
With my subconscious jigsaw puzzle still completely unravelled I tried to find the piece that fit next to Ian’s ramblings. My head hurt, the hangover was kicking in and I was trapped, thirsty, behind a door, which may or may not have had on rushing pilgrims looking for a dead blonde. There was a knock at the door. ‘Hello, are you ok in there?’ it asked. It was the same voice as the one that asked about the nomads. Was it just some crazy lady who wandered the halls asking questions? Should I reply? I thought as I picked up the chip ready to throw at anyone who came through the door. I had to say something, but what? ‘Yes I’m fine thank you, and you?’ It was a reaction. ‘Yes I’m ok too, thank you for asking, breakfast is ready’ she said! I listened to the footsteps get further away down the hall as I checked if escape was plausible from the window. Escape was plausible, but only if I didn’t mind multiple impaling. The smell of bacon was clouding my judgment. Another flashback! I was in a queue, talking to a girl. The smell was the same….Bacon! Who was she? I could now see a burger, a menu, a shot glass, a girl, yeah, it was, wait! She was holding the chips! Another flashback, ahhh! I was in a kitchen; there were kids there and a cat. Was it another cartoon? The girl was there too though, still holding the chips. I was having a conversation, but with who? Oh no! It was the woman in the photograph! The memories and pieces of the jigsaw started coming together like a professional level of Tetris. I remembered shouting something at the kids. There are certain things I never thought I’d say in life, ‘stop sticking marmite up your nose’ is one of them, another is ‘stop trying to pick the cats nose’. Most things I never thought I would say concern noses, I just wish one thing I said was take the shorts away from your nose. I didn’t, but I did say my other two nose phrases.
I had to do something or give in to the idea of dying in that room. I thought all the flashbacks had ceased and I would not ever know who the question lady was unless I went and ate her bacon. But if her shorts were anything to go by, maybe, no matter how good the aroma of the food was, I would not enjoy sitting across from whoever she was, while eating. I believed I had, between two and four minutes to make a decision, one way or another. I decided. I was going to run for the nearest door hoping it would lead to the exit and never look back. I began to mimic the long jumper’s style in the Olympic Games where they rock back and forth, puffing their cheeks to gain some sort of momentum, hoping it would help me. I opened the door fully and ran, gaining speed and confidence the further I went down the hall and pushed a big brown wooden door open, tripped, fell and landed at the bottom of a bed. With my head under the bed and the rest of my body crumbled in a heap like a deflated doll giving a car an M.O.T, I heard a sweet voice coming from above. ‘Is that you, God’ I said, slightly concussed… ‘No stupid, it’s me’ said the voice as it came closer. Next thing I saw was a head come over the side of the bed, presumably still attached to the body or else it would have come crashing down, and then the voice said ‘are you ok? You look hurt’. If she wasn’t so cute I would have pointed out how obvious it was that I was hurt but as she helped me up I had my best flashback. I remembered. How could I have forgotten? As soon as I met her, I had a feeling that with her, unlike the others, I would be able to experience love that is free, without ties, constraints, or attachment that would hold me back and prevent me from realizing my dreams. She was the chips to my burger! She was real. She wasn’t God as I had previously thought, but she was without doubt, an Angel. Maybe the nomads were demons and the shorts were almost certainly the devil. I now had a fair idea of where I was as I gazed at her beauty with a grateful acceptance. She kissed my aching forehead, took my hand and led me towards the bacon.
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