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Nothing and Beingness

The girls’ high-heels clattered on the slate disturbing birds as they ran ahead, hand in hand, swallowed by the darkness of the path down through the trees.

I adjusted the weight of a carton of beer, watched the tail-lights of our cab twinkle and disappear up the street. Took two steps.

A looming figure appeared from behind the fence.

Despite a stoop to his shoulders he towered above me. In the crook of his right elbow he held a large watermelon, in his left hand he clutched a walking-stick. Through my yellow Hunter S. Thompson shooting glasses and because the LSD had taken hold, he looked like an extremely tall three-legged pregnant hunchback.

—Can you help me with this melon son? he rasped at me, exuding a mist of second-hand store, damp cardboard and shaving cream.

Struggling to focus I looked at my carton of beer, then back at him.

Shaking my head I made my way down the path.

—Is this where the sex party is? he called after me.

—This is the number on the invitation dumb-ass, I say under my breath. —But not a destination for the aged.

At last year’s annual ‘Live Sex’ party we found a dead guy slumped in the neighbours garden, a pretty gay boy with blonde spiked hair and glitter on his cheeks. Someone revived him, or so I hear. The year before that a hairdresser got so wasted on drugs she began to get friendly with the household dog…sexually friendly…and the whole room looked on in disbelief. One year I was the unfortunate victim of a Red Mitsubishi – a notoriously bad batch of ecstasy tablets. Several people died, overheated, cooked inside.

(Continued)

Hacked…again

I am trying not to take the hacking of my website personally…this is the 3rd time this year that I have been targeted. The URL http://www.brentley.com/blog is dead…if you enjoy reading my work please bookmark http://www.brentley.com.