1. recalcitron comes too in briton

recalcitron awoke. a sore head seemed to bob just over the horizon line. eyes think about peering open. half a crack and the one eyed crab stares back. eyes close again.



scape yourself off the pavement as the pensioners start to hurl abuse. downhill is the only way you can walk. sun seems to have it in for you. glare pierces the back of your retina.



how did i manage to come down those stairs intact? rescue 911 or 000? where is it i have woken? must be england by the voices but where i ask. briton did they say? briton they say back raising tone. briton? no brighton ye git. oh...





empty chairs fill the horizon. brief repite. then strange conversation. your name is miss adventure? sounds like a song title to me. she says she will see me around. i have a vague feeling we might have met before. then they come and ask to pay for sitting in the chair. the glare comes back.



in the shadows behind your eyes the stewardess reaches out. please come and relax in my warm cosy nest. visions swing between lurid colour and flat duotone displays and your outile begins to wobble torn across the streets.



why did they make me leave the chairs? the cat and the bird seem to know.



time to find some cafe action. things are way too strange.