A Song A Day For A Year

Waking up to christmas tree full boom with lights, twinkling terrors that sparkle in the mid-morning sunlight. I inspect the time on the mantelpiece clock, its five minutes faster than my phone time. I think some time ago I did this on purpose to get my engine running in the morning, but now its an inconvenience I can’t stretch myself to fix. Diabetes is a pain in the arse don’t get it. Every morning I have to go through this sodding ritual to remove all hair on my body, every trace of dna that can lead back to the real me, the me i’m not allowed to be right now. To even mention the name of the man who did this to me pierces something gentle inside and I rage about like a beast unchained. Marianne, my wife, I don.t know where she is, I have to keep working till he sets her free. I finish my cold toast and tea and button up my blazer for the ride ahead. Each morning two men in black suits and shades arrive at my front door with the limo to work. It’s his way of making the new me more comfortable. As we pass through my north london town all the kids take a look, some even rub it for good luck, or so ive heard on the grapevine.