A Brief Collapse Over Chips
Life
Yesterday, I walked 12.5 miles in the sun. And the wind.
It was the kind of wind that undoes your thoughts mid-sentence and tries to fold your map into an origami swan. We went from Yarmouth to Alum Bay, which sounds like the start of a folk ballad but is actually just a very long way with not enough cafés.
By the time we got back to Ryde, I had earned two things: a meal and a lie-down. Unfortunately, my body decided to combine the two.
We sat down at the pub, I blinked, and when I opened my eyes again, time had been replaced by a static channel. I’d had another one — a proper syncope special: instant off switch, mild reboot, bonus confusion.
Mary handled it brilliantly, like a woman who’s married to a malfunctioning lamp.
I came round thinking, “Where the hell am I?”
Still not sure, to be honest.