Sunday, 8 September 2013


I liked this picture as it supplied many images and ideas.  Being one who is actively involved in paranormal research, my first thought was of a 'ghost-hunting' party in some abandoned asylum, but as the paranormal idea had already been covered, I decided to pick something else.

Photograph copyright David Vale.


The dream has continued for the last three weeks.  Without fail, the details always remain the same.
It’s June, 1980.  The hallway of our former college – long since demolished – appears before my eyes.  Ahead of me I can see you, walking along with Tom on one side and Francois upon the other.  From where I stand I can hear your laughter echoing from the walls.  I know precisely that the source of your laughter lies within an episode of M*A*S*H* shown the previous evening.  I also know that you have each walked from the Science Department on the second floor and are making your way towards the Main Hall and a welcome lunch. 
I know this because, upon that day in June some thirty years previous, I was in the middle of our group; situated between Tom and yourself.  I remember that the person relating the tale of the female outfit which Corporal Klinger was wearing, was myself.  I recall fiercely how my hand swung with yours, like a happy pendulum, as we walked the hall, wrapped in a cloud of huge relief at the end of a tortuous double chemistry lesson; four friends locked together within one supremely, joyous moment.
In my dreams I always hear you responding to my words, yet the only noises which register to my ears are the sound of your voices and the clunk of your footsteps upon antiquated stone floor.
Every time, I promise that I try to run.  For a split-second I move forward, only to watch in frustration as you all move farther away from me.  Last week I am sure that there were no more than five window arches between us.  Today, I know I counted seven.  It’s reaching the point where...where a 'voice' inside me is urging me to save my accept that I will never close the gap and once more place my hand within the loving warmth of yours.
I’ll keep trying.  I promise that I will use everything that I possess to keep you in sight; my blessed Angela.

The doctor placed the clipboard upon his desk and wore an expression that poured chilled fear deep into her heart.
‘We’re doing everything that we can, Mrs Wilkinson.  I have to tell you that Simon’s condition has deteriorated overnight. It's down to your husband now. If he can keep fighting then he has a chance...but...’  
Dr Miller’s face bore a sea of frowns.
’...well, I wouldn't be doing my job professionally if I didn't ask you to be prepared for the worst.  I’m so sorry.’ 

© Kev Milsom (2013)


  1. Many thanks, Roisin. I like to think that he'd pull through in the end. :)