The lonely letterbox, the struggling goose-pigeons and the snotty cat grumble, mewl and spit.
Their purrs patter the ground.
My e-mails have gone into the wastepaper basket.
My friend’s voice is a little too high for my ear.
I listen for her sigh.
It’s not there.
It’s past one in the morning, and the dervishes come on at a quarter past one.
The notes from their set are loud, striking the single oof of one percussionist.
The piano sounds like a starboat drifting through outer space.
My mind is a corridor where I don’t know what the oncoming lights are or where they are coming from.
I feel the bare, cold floor.
I don’t want to take off my boots.
I stand, my boots, my socks, my trousers, my T-shirt.
I kick away the sock of the lace-up toe and wonder if anyone has noticed.
I’m standing in a tatty study in the sunless hours of the early morning.
Outside, the night is calm, the air of a traveller who has reached its destination.
I turn off the piano music, and when the dervishes finish, the keyboard beeps an alert.
I don’t want to see who called.
I turn and walk out.
Technology expert, community builder, coffee addict red wine and food lover, traveller, photography enthusiast and a lot more.
Recently experimenting AR/VR model and image generation and AI generated text and poems.
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