RAIN ONTHEVELUX
IV As I passed out on the mattress, the room echoed with the pitter- patter of rain on the Velux. III I collapsed up the stairs. It slipped from my hand. Glass and water rained onto the floor. Fuck, did I cut my foot? I tore my shoes off and was gripped with a hunger. I found myself in the kitchen, devouring leftovers in the fridge and running a glass of water. My key slid into the lock.The driver shouted to wake me up. I wrestled my bankcard into the ATM to withdraw enough money for the fare. Orange waves of street lamp fluorescence washed over me as they spilled in through the window. Strand Underpass. I didn’t want to be here. Sobriety. Black thoughts polluted my mind as I was absorbed by another taxi. The sky was cloudless – the naked silver stars were visible above London’s streets, isolated from one another and separated by millions of miles. A bitter chill hung in the air that stung and scratched at my face. Emotion rising, legs failing, stairs dissolving under my stride. I felt sick but suddenly remembered it all. Wasted eyes scanned the screen of my BlackBerry and once again her words serrated their way through the display. 3.00am.With rubber limbs I slipped off the bar stool, putting the lighter away and the end of the cigarette in a nearby glass. Panic; chest tightening. As the cigarette burned its way down into my lungs fragmented scenes of our summer screamed behind my
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