On one of those hazard church mornings where he sits bolt upright from another stolen sleep. Time hasn’t lapsed instead has just cut, copied and pasted. I haven’t seen a face I don’t remember for months now, I haven’t seen a day in a month pass without a face I can’t forget and as we all stand still that siren swims by. The idea is to have no idea he believed, for that is when you first encounter true fear and all of those first imagined reinforcements are blown away in a gale. But for some ideas will fall on yer lap, he knew that to his untamed sense of envy. He began collecting magazine pages, newspaper clippings, screenshots and old flower pressings to lock tight and feed the child within. He felt each time that he cut out and collected one of these things the knot twist in his stomach tightening the belt around his heart and lungs, each dose of a stolen photograph felt like midnight’s medicine or that shaky mid-afternoon hyper-ventilation from making that espresso a double when you know you shoulda gone without.
