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And now for the second part of the fourth part late night tale stories |
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Flat of Angles |
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Written by Simon Cleary |
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And read by me Benedict Cumberbatch |
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Is there any more drink around here? |
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Do you have any? |
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Its alright, I haven’t been to bed yet |
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I’m not drinking in the morning! |
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I swear I had a couple of… |
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No I think I had them before I headed out last night. |
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I sometimes feel like I am in the 1980s |
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Or perhaps it's part of my mom's fault watching Esatenders |
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With my family lying back on the green velour sofa |
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Looking out at the sodium lights of the A505 |
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Hands fiddling with the glass on the tarnished aluminium of |
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The Secondary double glazing thinking imagining romantic futures |
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Set out for me by songs |
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From top of the pops Twisted by lyrics of Genesis |
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Starry starry nights |
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Paint your pallid blue and grey |
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Red and gold |
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Are royal colors |
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Yeah, yeah |
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Industrial state |
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Instead |
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Anyway, like I say, it was great |
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I was waiting in the corridor, to go to the toilet, |
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Standing right in front of the door. |
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It opened, and this girl was standing there. |
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I was a little shocked, hadn’t expected it, and jumped a little. |
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She did the same thing a second later, smiling. |
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I tilted my head left, about to speak, and look sympathetic, |
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And she tilted her head right. |
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I raised my right hand, she raised her left. |
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I put it back by my side, straightened my head, |
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And she did the same. |
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“I’ll be your mirror.” she said. |
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Nothing else existed for a second there, I felt calm, and wanted no more. |
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Then some chump who had slunk up the corridor goes |
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“Awww, that is so cute!” |
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I barged past her and slammed the door, |
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Shot the lock across,the handle fell off. |
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This can’t actually have happened. |
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She is only 28.Only. |
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What are we doing with our lives? |
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Why are we carrying on like this? |
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For God’s sake, why don’t we grow up? |
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Pretending we are hip, |
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Throwing our bodies around the room,around the town, |
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Projected on cheap MDMA and ciders with ice, our shadows are long. |
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They slip over the horizon, grow thinner, |
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And disappear only the all-encompassing shadow of night takes over. |
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That is greater than any of us. |
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Then morning comes, and it goes away. |
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It peels the film from eyes, |
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Sparks cells into action, |
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And eventually resurrects those who have avoided it. |
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It says here is a day |
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Do with it as you will. |
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I am back, but she… |
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I’m well up for keeping the session going |
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Why did I even come back here? |
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God knows. |
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I’ll give her a call, |
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See what she’s up to. |
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We could swing down the Talbot for a few cures. |
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Its ringing. |
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Oh nooo… What happened? |
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I think that… |
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Hey! Where did you get to last night? |
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Fancy a Bloody Mary at The Talbot? |
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Give us a call when you get this! |
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No. She wouldn’t move. |
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I think I lied next to her. |
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I lied. |
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We had that methlathyl-whatever when I got out of the toilet. |
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She had given that bloke the heave-ho. |
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I can’t even remember her face. |
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Just the strange flock texture on the wallpaper behind her in the corridor, |
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The magnolia paintwork, |
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The sick yellow light from a bare bulb, |
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And decades of greasy black hand marks by the top of the stairs. |
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Her eyes were… |
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Black. |
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