Skipping down the stairwell, X slips on the last step and flies through the door at the bottom, landing in a heap. Jumping back up, she staggers into the building angrily kicking the step she tripped on. When she does, she swears at it too, using the kind of language her mother would be appalled by. Satisfied, she gingerly dusts herself down before walking over to her car that’s parked on the driveway. Getting in, she plants herself behind the steering wheel and closes her eyes, drifting from place to place in search of somewhere to go. With her fingers digging into the wheel, she pictures a beauty spot on the outskirts of town overlooking the countryside and the woods beyond. She hasn’t been in years. It can be a favourite place for the locals to retreat to, even at night, and yet she knows a secret spot or two where they don’t venture. Making up her mind, she’s about to stick the key in the ignition when she thinks of Herbie. Up there in her apartment, all alone in new surroundings. Sticking out her bottom lip feeling bad, she gets out the car and rushes inside. Entering her room, she looks over at the biscuit tin. Empty. Holding her breath, she listens for where he might be only for him to poke his head from one of the toilet rolls chewing a mouthful of carrot. Picking him up, she gets a sock from her underwear drawer and pulls it over his lower half to prevent him from picking up a chill. Giving him a kiss to which he replies with a squeak, she pops him into her pocket then heads back to her car. Sitting him on her lap, she puts the key in the ignition and reverses onto the street knocking over several wheelie bins as she goes. Sighing, she lifts Herbie onto the passenger seat and gets out. One of them has spilt a bag containing the carcass of a chicken. Noticing some of the neighbouring cats on the other side of the street, she kisses her teeth to get their attention and kicks the carcass towards them. Sure enough, they screech in delight and dart over to get their fill as she puts the bins back in place. Apologising to Herbie before pulling out onto the road, she fucks up the clutch and shrieks, apologises some more and then floors it. Herbie buries himself into the folds of her dress, and as she speeds along with the setting sun in her face, she finds herself singing. She can’t remember where she heard it, or if it’s one of her own, but as the words leave her lips, she looks up at the sun and finds herself slipping into another dream. The words she sings go something like this;

seasons change yet these feelings remain, i was born into you;

i’ll sing you a song to guide you along, i was born into you;

a pinch of you to ease these blues, a single kiss can’t go wrong;

so i sing this song to guide you along, i was born into you.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US