Andy’s got a new van. Citroen Berlingo. Close to Berlingot. French slang for clitoris. It’s a white van.
He might chop his old van down and make it into a trailer. It had a sun painted on the window of one rear door. It always seemed reminiscent of Louis XIV of France. The sun king.
Baltic cold storage.
Merely physical. You’ll acclimatise.
Rage of loneliness leading to self violence.
Expand on malfunction.
Emotional meltdown. Freezing room, Coltrane playing. Sun Ship album. Fucking irony. Need for love. Human warmth kind. A breast, a hand. Companion. Global love. A random relationship.
Alcohol induced. Inhibitions abandoned. Another bottle of red. Frustrated masturbation of dying sensate pleasures. Tears, anguish. Slam head downward into the carpet. Buffered from floorboards.
Get through Winter and Spring. Concentrate.
Andy’s got a USB key of John Peel shows ( https://soundcloud.com/john-peeler/1998-12-10-john-peel-show ). Boards of Canada sessions. I turn up the volume. Heading towards Sora Bridge. If we finish the work by lunchtime we can get some chips from the pier and maybe accommodate a beer or two. Why did I think Bridge of Sorrows?
Night flight. I left your island. Trench coat and shades packed in her hand luggage. Ascending into dark skies. Never leave our universe. She mentioned something about atomic number 84. I freely associated. Not Litvinenko but Markov. With ricin. That was when you were 7 years old. I was intrigued by spies. And assassins. Hashsassins. A blunt before the contract. I think love is a conspiracy theory. Al is atomic number 13.
Have you got a copy of the periodic table?
He laughs, Not on me, no.
Do you know what atomic number 19 is?
Potassium. Did you read about palladium being found in sewers in human shit? Incidentally, for your reference, that’s atomic number 46.
Perhaps she doesn’t exist. The Spy from the House of Love. We only have the moment. The tangible. Here and now.
He laughed again, You’ve been spending too much time up in the woods with the owls.