My shoulder buzzed, it felt like a tap on my shoulder. – Ah its my phone vibrating.

I was somewhere between the Hargen Daz and the Potato waffles. I am sure they were a favourite. That was the last time I spoke with him, he reassured me by saying he would come. We both needed a break, twins we were but twins we weren’t.

See you Sunday, I will be there Ipm.

John, John, I called out, he car was there. How strange.

Haven’t seen him since yesterday was the general agreement. Not un-usual I guess, sometimes he disappeared for days, weekends, weeks, months.

Why is the light on down there, lumination around the door. That’s strange the doors unlocked even, Dads, in France, rarely anyone goes down there.

I felt nothing other than that the earth pulling me deep downwards, swallowed even. There he was, as mass of brother John. A noose around his neck, everything stagnment, still, quiet, he was completely motionless – where was his soul, had that just lift and vanished as I opened the door, it had scarpered.

An empty stone vessel, static.

I don’t know what it is like to shop lift, other than giving my kids the odd banana or apple as a pacifier around the store. That is where I guess my time with him lifted in the shop , somewhere between the hargen daz and the potato waffles.

Oh help, who to help.

999, I gathered the mobility to dial a number

What’s your emergency?

There is no emergency I replied, its too late.

Who can help you today?
Help I thought, Its too late for help,

Words I guess, words can help.

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