The next morning there was another note.
Not from the Mark simulacrum, but from my family.
They said, or Dad said, that they would be away for a while. There was a mountain they had read about in Wales and they all thought, hey, why not go and climb it.
What? I asked the note, moving on to the next part.
It was a new mountain, apparently, just got classified the other week and half of Liverpool was off to climb it.
But what about me? Didn’t they want all their kids to come?
The note said they’d thought about asking me to come but I was still asleep when they left and they didn’t want to wake me, and besides, with the Japanese problem, perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to publicise it too much to others.
‘Yeah, thanks Dad.’
I scrunched up the note and dropped it on the floor.
No publicity, right.
I walked around the barren housse, aimless, the Japanese Bela Tarr.
After an hour or two, I went to the bathroom and stared at the face in the mirrror, willing it with every ounce of whatever passed for spirit in my stupid head to change back to normal.
But it was weird…looking around the room, things did seem a little lower.Continue reading