???

Walking through the slowly decaying centre of my town...
For just a second , I caught something in the corner of my eye. Sitting at a table in the cafe downstairs, I could see a small child with sunken, hollow eyes. Skin the colour of a dead hand.
 Although it was only an instant, my mind raced through the possibles.
I'd finally broken through the veil of illusion and could see the dead.
I was witnessing a vision from a future not yet set. A small survivor from a terrible holocaust, somehow projected back as a warning against human hatred and ignorance. A bleak sigul that our future lies in cooperation and fairness for all.

It wasn't until the next second, when I saw another dressed as a pumpkin, that I realised what was really happening. 

Thinking about it now, she did seem a bit too happy to be a projection of a distant and brutal future. It was the can of pop that she stuck her grisly little mouth around that  put the lid on it.

A strange time of year. There's so many things hidden  behind garish costumes , bumper bags of sugary treats, bonfires and Christmas Trees.
 Life, death, the mingling of worlds seen and unseen, beginnings and ending...magic if you wil.

I carried on . My destination, one of the big four to buy some crisps.

I  live in truly contrary and confusing  times...

Looking in to other peoples' lives...

The longer you do something, the more you become immune to certain aspects of its nature.
Helping someone with an everyday thing , like accessing an email account, stumbling across the contents of someone elses life, the part no one else sees and finding out what really drives people. Curiosity, desire, want , the parts of us that have no place in a setting that dictates sensible, upstanding and decent behaviour.

Im not even sure that he was bothered about what I'd seen. Perhaps he wasn't. Perhaps that's the difference between someone who might have nothing to lose and someone like me.  I'm too aware of things I have to lose. That's why I'm such a coward in many respects, too much comfort and joy at stake to make a difference in a real sense. Too much discomfort in real rebellion.
Who's better off?

No where is the crack between the real and the made up more obvious than in this

We didn't mention the emails in his inbox, we just attached his updated  C.V ..

This joke is still on me....