Friday, 22 June 2012
Response 1: Saturday night, Sunday morning.
As I came round to the noise of the ticking clock, I saw it was 4.00; I’m guessing morning. The pain is starting to slip away now.
In a backless dress under cardboard sheets, my mind starts to wonder to how I got here.
I was dancing on the floor.
Girl of my dreams with me and that song that goes something like doo da da.
I can’t really remember, but as I look down to see my leg in plaster, I realise that impressive slick dance moves were more drunken granddad dancing after a bottle of whiskey.
I’m feeling lonely, feeling blue. Girl of my dreams, I had ruined it. What a fool!
I could picture her now, we were so happy and now she’s gone. If only I could speak to her again.
A knock on the door and a sweet voice said “I bought you a coffee?’...