Sunday, 20 October 2019


In a department store in a shopping mall in the United States. The shop has racks of sporty-style jackets on the wall and racks of similar clothing at intervals down the centre of the floor too. Rather than having entrance/exit doors there are two large floor to ceiling openings (on the right hand side facing the back of the shop) into the mall concourse. The concourse flooring is a deep red vinyl, with slight ribbing - presumably to create an anti-slip surface – and a black trim/upstand to the perimeter. The store is quite narrow and I am towards the back end where the hanging clothes and shopfloor racks make moving around quite tight and awkward-

I actually have my old Tanglewood (Fender copy) guitar with me and am wearing it. I have been relegated to here because I have killed two people and the staff keep checking on me, making for awkward crushes amongst the clothes as we try to move around, a fact not helped by my wearing the guitar. I think one of the staff is Tom Hardy and he is constantly warning me off. If at any time I attempt to walk out onto the mall concourse I am approached by two African-American woman, each sporting a similar afro, who gently usher me back inside. They have dark blue shirt and pants uniforms, but I know they are security and not cops. Although it is not plugged in I periodically strum my guitar – just simple chords – and the effect, the gorgeous sustain and bends, sound really amazing (and as if amplified)-

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