BEYOND THE SHOALS

The blue lights blinked like coins in the sea. I could see them. On the high street near the bridge. An emergency but nothing to do with me.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and walked away. It was a cold misty Winter's day in early November. The final breath of normality before the Christmas Season blurted out its neon-tinseled casino.

I sat in a cafe and drank hot coffee. The windows were steamed up and I felt like I was in a submersible diving to the bottom of my cup. People sat hunched over steaming drinks or full breakfasts. No-one was speaking. Everyone was busy with their own lives. Nothing to do with me though. Winter made the world selfish and harsh. No-one cared about each other. There was simply too much to do before the ice settled on your bones and Jack Frost took your chips away.

The street was half-empty. I looked around for someone I knew.

A young Mum and and her bawling daughter were bustling through the decaying precinct on their way to the old cinema. I followed them in. I'd been here as a kid many times years ago. I'd been mesmerised by the vast iridescent screen speckled with swashbuckling pirates and dangerous spies. I stared at it now and it seemed like a portal into another time, a fogged film covering haunted mouths trying to speak. I couldn't understand them anymore. I shuffled past the mother and child shovelling popcorn in the wide gobs and left.

Outside it was raining. It was that fine rain that seems to soak everything even wetter than normal rain. I put my coat collar up and wandered down the high street getting slowly drenched.

There was a queue at the butchers. Dewbursts. High Class. I never understood that. High Class Butchers. I used to say to my Wife that no-one wants a low class one so why even bother putting it!

"Still," she said "it was better than the awful shop-sign Family Butchers!" We laughed at her black humour, which she kept till the very end. It helped us through the darkest days of her illness, which no light could penetrate. I would sit by her bed and brush her hair gently singing Smiths songs. She loved The Smiths. Always had since college. She said there really was light that never went out somewhere in the world. Morrissey and her were both wrong.

I gazed through the shop window. It was damp on the inside. Condensation ran down it like tears and mixed with the blood of the kidneys at the bottom of the inclined window display. A fly gulped it like a cocktail and I felt sick. "High Class my arse!" I tutted and meandered away.

In the park I saw kids running round a lake. They were feeding the fish. 

I shambled over and gawped at the maelstrom the large goldfish were making whilst the children threw in bread excitedly. The surface of the lake was boiling and I stooped down fascinated. The fish were really big and shining like bullion. I peered closer when one of my eyes fell out straight into the mouth of one of the fish. For a moment my eyeball stared at me before it was swallowed whole, plup! and sailed beyond the shoals.

I was distraught and covered my empty eye socket with my hand. The children didn't seem to notice so I loped away clutching my face. I realised my hand felt lighter and to my horror I saw that several fingers had dropped off. I could see them, pink and sausage-like, in the grass near the lake edge.

Frantic I ran to the town centre but I fell before I got there. When I looked down one of my feet had come away, trapped in the iron gutter, near the butchers of all places. A choice cut I joked without wanting to as I dropped to my knees. It was still drizzling a fine mist like the vapona fly spray I used at home.

Home. God, I need to get home. I'd better get back in the car and make my way.

The blue flashing lights were still spinning round, daubing the shops in aquamarine. Maybe they would never go out.

I crawled to where my car was and as I went my other foot tore off near the shoe shop. It'll only need one I laughed without wishing to.

Soaked to the skin I craned my neck to admire the whirling blue lamps of the police cars. I wanted to speak but my teeth clattered to the pavement like dice. I mouthed something to the officer like a carp in the lake and wrestled my body onto the front seat of the car.

For some strange reason the whole front end was crushed in and I struggled to jam myself behind the steering wheel, which was jutting upwards like a TV aerial. I wondered if there was anything good on the telly.

Sat behind the crumpled dash plastered with blood and glass I stared at the wall which my car was folded up against.

Strange that. The things people do. I better get home now. My wife will be waiting for me. I hope she's left a light on.

I fingered the wheel but suddenly felt terribly tired. I may have lost my teeth but best not lose any sleep I chuckled without wanting to.

With the turquoise strobes caressing my face I stretched my gums in a huge red yawn and slowly closed my remaining eye.