Walking
back into his house, Corrado Fenn was in a good mood, the lecture went well,
he'd sold 15 copies of his books at ten pounds each and he'd smooth talked one
of his admirers to drive him home so he could avoid the tube.
Sometimes, talking in public was a chore that couldn't be avoided, leaving him flat, other times like tonight, he felt inspired; even now a couple of hours later, after midnight, he was ready to do some writing when normally he'd be asleep.
Sometimes, talking in public was a chore that couldn't be avoided, leaving him flat, other times like tonight, he felt inspired; even now a couple of hours later, after midnight, he was ready to do some writing when normally he'd be asleep.
One
of the drawbacks of his house was the lack of space which was why his
bed was in the smallest bedroom, six foot off the ground on concrete
blocks. After making a cup of tea, he took it up to his bedroom and started
flicking through his notes and the print out of 18,000 words from his
latest book, planned to be his Magnum Opus, the theory of everything, his
theory of cosmic mischief.
Needing
a pen, Fenn got off the bed to get one, as he did, he fell backwards towards
the wall; a not uncommon experience.
He braced himself so his back would bear
the brunt, but somehow he missed the wall, landed flat on his back, then
cracked his head on the floor.
The
alarm clock was ringing-time to get up. But he didn’t have one and it was very
loud. His head and back really hurt and he remembered. A feeling of strangeness
passed through him, it was cold and the
floor was wooden. He didn’t have any wooden floors. Opening his eyes he could
see a large window high up on the wall; the ringing stopped.
Jesus
fuck, where am I, though as he said that, he knew he was in the room the
security guard was in yesterday. He could hear footsteps, there was nowhere to
hide or run, all he could do was wonder if it would be the same man and if it
was, had he seen his cock.
He’d
always wanted to break though the barriers of time and space but now that he
appeared to have, he was shit scared.
If a
compere appeared before him saying, Mr Fenn, hold up the card which shows your
state of fear and panic, with one being the lowest and ten being the highest,
it would have been the ten
he held up. He could be anywhere, anytime, well
anytime that had uniformed security guards; usually calm in a crisis, Corrado
was shaking.
The door
opened, Fenn lay still on his back; he’d dreamt this years ago, it just came
back to him. In the dream, when the door opened, he had expected to see a dalek
but it was a man in a uniform. He lifted his head up, it was the same face from
last night.
The man
stared at him, ‘How the fuck did you get in here?’
‘I fell
through the wall. I don’t know where I am.’
‘Well
you’re in Dunedin in New Zealand.’
The
security guard held his hand out to help him up.
‘Fuck.
You’re kidding me. Shit, how am I going to get out of here? I live in London.
Who’s going to feed the cat? What is going on?’
‘Don’t
panic. Come and have a cup of coffee’. He walked out of the room with Corrado
reluctantly following.
“I don’t
want a fucking drink, I want to go home’, Jesus I must sound like an idiot.
‘What the fuck am I going to do?’
‘Look, I
know you’re scared but I’m not going to call the cops or anyone else apart from
my girlfriend. She’ll know what to do. My name’s Sanders, what’s yours?’
‘Corrado.'
“Sit
down, you can have herbal tea, it might clam you down. I wasn’t too surprised
to see someone in the room after the alarm went off. It went off yesterday, and
a door opened in the wall in that room and I could see into a corridor. It was
freaky, I almost ran out of the building. I was too scared to go through it.’
No comments:
Post a Comment