I am in a series of adventures. They start when I am abducted from a hospital. All my memories are false. I was created a short time ago.
I am sliding down rocky paths on a hillside with friends of Gary Numan.
At the bottom, I sit on a toilet by the road, waiting to see who notices me.
I am taken to a roller derby club. I pay to be dominated by women. Inside, the space narrows, and I pull myself along on tiny hooks on the ceiling. The ladies are better at this form of locomotion.
We enter a large space. From the ceiling hang many fine threads, each ending in a hook carved in the shape if a silver letter. I don’t recognise some of the languages. One of the ladies changes her font. Her body is sharp, silver letters.
I am suspended from the ceiling. Far from feeling pain, I feel freedom. I can fly through this space suspended by hooks in my flesh.
A man on a bench offends me. I rise into the sky and summon him, controlling him like a puppet. Others appear in the sky, challenging my actions.
The man apologises.
I find myself imprisoned. A narrow cell just wide enough to levitate vertically in. I look down. There’s a toilet but no door. I verbally repent misusing my power. A wall slides open.
I’m in a doctors office. She tests me for involuntary reflexes. I pass the test. I have none. Behind me other patients twitch, wired up to sensors.
I walk around the lab, seeing other me’s from the past being tested. I ask the doc what I’m made of. She says I have Dali’s bollocks.
I pick up a book. The cover reads “Paul Smith-1980”.
Inside is a photo story of everything that happened after my abduction.
The roller blade women, the friends of Gary Numan, all the same people.
I wonder what I should do now, now I know who and what I am.
I leave the lab. A screen appears in mid air and tells me a place to live has been supplied. It suggests buying a phone, as staring at screens others can’t see could be mistaken for madness.
I walk onto the street. I have been registered blind, so I can pretend not to see people from the past. I see buildings I recognise from another existence. In the street, my creators argue over me. One pursues me. I throw lumps if cheese at him. I have foresworn violence.
I am flying.
Pursued by cheese.