Sunday, 21 April 2019


Walking in what I feel is Greenock city centre. I walk along by the River Clyde, aware that I have followed the same route 3 times, round by the High Court, which has a small unassuming entrance secreted under a vast black brick building. I'm impressed at my powers of recollection, having not been here since early childhood. I walk up what I know to be the High Street. I'm back under the Court building, which I sense is on fire. People are panicking. I shelter under a great eave that stretches out over the water, covering a small corner walk or pathway above the river. I know the game is up when the ridge tiles of this vast roof slide off into the water below in a spectacular, if terrifying, fashion. Now on a sinking boat on the water. I am climbing desperately up to the upper decks as the boat turns over slowly, preparing to sink to its watery doom. I ignore a life raft, its launch too time consuming an exercise. I also pass by several sets of moulded plastic seats intended to float when released into the water. I reach a timber bench, with rope loops round the perimeter, which I know will float. I grab this right away, as the boat arches upwards and plunges finally into the water. The seat is torn from my hands by the force of this and I remember my last view of this life; looking up through the sweet green water, back-lit by bright sky, a few items from the ship spiralling above as I'm sucked hopelessly in to the watery depths below-

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