EXTRACT: Before you woke me I was deeply in an odd dream. I was holding the dog. And he was dead. “We will do this together, bury him”, you said. I carried him against me and he was warm. I went through a latched gate into a childhood garden that spread out before me larger and with a distance I didn’t remember. As I walked, the Edwardian order began to untangle and I entered a place of tall trees, rocks and shade. I thought you were lost. Sadness started like a second skin covering my body, drenching like a mountain mist.
Contains adult themes
Male | 40s | Under 3 minutes Starts on page 24
EXTRACT: I’m an affront. If I go out there, they’ll sniff at me. Know I’m rotting. And the terrible thing is I’ve never felt more alive in my life. Every sound, every flicker of movement, every skerrick of meaning in every word, I hear it, I see it. When you touch me, I feel it. It’s like a cut. Like I’ve lost three layers of skin. And I don’t want you to touch me and I do want you to touch me. And I want your love and I don’t want you to love me. And it’s all unbearable.