Horror On Hill St .....

  Okay. So, I'm off my fucking head, right? I mean, nobody's disputing that ~ except, perhaps the brit' government. Who would dearly love to claw back my sick pay. Despite, time and again, having had the very best medical minds they could muster tell them " Yes. This guy is right off his fucking head! There's fuck all anyone can do for him. "

This is how come I've buried myself away, ye see? Since the incident that rendered a perfectly normal and average sort of guy someone who people didn't want to be around for too long. And who couldn't stand being around people much either. I've found a level of peace in my complete solitude.

 I actually live at the far end of a long and winding track. So far from the road, in fact, that I'd be visible only as a speck, from that road. And few enough people go along it anyway. And this is where I learned to fly.

 Yes. I fly. Usually on a downward or flat surface of the track. Often as not, after having been up to feed Pony and Donkey their 'biscuits'. I'm most at peace with myself then. And that's when I tend to have a crafty flight, as I walk back down the sloping track towards home. 

 Flying comes quite spontaneously. But, equally naturally. I just hold my arms out, at right angles to my body, and I'm off. I swoop along the track. Often tilting my 'wings' and teetering off in what ever direction I've sent myself in. It's good. 

 I'm guiltily aware, of course, that this is Not rational behaviour. Especially in a man of my age. But, fuck it; No one's pretending I'm the full inventory anyway. And no cunt can see me. Fucking leave me alone to my simple, harmless little moments of pleasure.  I'm not hurting anyone.


 And nor was I, the other day. I was in town and busily bustling back and forth, from Jim's to the various shops I had to buy shit at. Always fetching my hauls back to Jim's and unloading my purchases  there. I figured I had one more run to make. Up to Hill Street.  

 And there I was. Scuttling along the road side. Nothing in my head. And, before I knew it? I took off! I was Flying along Hill Street. Major road into town. Arms outstretched. Weaving about the pavement. In my element.

 But, even then, that vestige of sanity was screaming inside my head: " Ditch! You sad cunt! Ye fucking Flying in public!!! Ye can't do this shit in a tiny town! Any cunt sees ye and word'll go round like an electric current through water!

 Too late. A motor swept towards me and by. Young bloke driving it. He'd obviously yelled to his girlfriend, in the passenger seat; " Fuck me! Look at the state of This mad old cunt! He's fucking Flying down Hill Street!!! "

 And, as my eyes met hers, I saw that she was pissing herself laughing.

 Caught. Right there. I'd committed Social Suicide.