F-Watch

 

When the door slams they put a name and number card outside,

it has a large red F stamped on it.

This is  called “F-Watch”…it means they think you’re suicidal!!!!

They check every 15mins…

..fif..teen minutes…

.try to stay calm!….focus on a constant!

…OK….focus

Right…..focus….every 15mins I jump out of my skin! What causes that?

…..it feels like a habit…

BANG!

There it goes again…

the eyeball in the door…

unblinking…

staring at my shape on the floor…

little does the eye know…I have dug a tunnel…

it reaches beyond the wall and the fence…

it reaches far past the range of the CCTV……

it surfaces deep in the forest

all I need to do is close my eyes

and I’m running down that tunnel

which increases in size every time I use it…

the exit is via a door in an ancient oak tree…

above the door, neatly carved is my family name

and an hour-glass of salt

that is always 15 mins from running out…

I create a mind-map that helps me

find my way back through the forest

to the tree in time to keep my appointment

with the eye…

the unblinking eye…

it assesses my body

sprawled on the rubber mattress,

unaware of the trees that surround me …

that protect me

that shield me from its Gorgon gaze…

and days pass into months

and the months flutter toward the light

which lays on the other side of darkness…

darkness being a measure in old money.

Then just as suddenly

I find myself reprieved…

relocated for two eternities

to the Mirrored Halls of the Black Widow

to absolve the sins of my forefathers…

the eye in the door blinks

something is different…

the eye now has the a sense smell!

and it can detect female pheromones

3 days ride away by horse…

it smells Norse…and Celt……

it smells ……

it smells…

its own mortality…

15 minutes pass……

it blinks

again…

it breathes deeply and detects children…

two born of royal blood and one of angels…

it blinks…

the body on the mattress moves…

it stretches…

turns over…

now  the eye can hear…

it hears the rustle of leaves,

smells breast milk and skunk

from the sweat of the punk…

an assault to its senses…

it primes its defences…

and…

releases a tear…

a solitary tear …

laden with just enough salt

to take its pain away…

time passes…

the hourglass releases one more grain of salt

 

 

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