A Heartwarming Tale

I’m in Seabrook Road, Newton Heath. A car is wedged at the top of a hill. I try to decide if a housewife could kill and dismember the driver, and then dispose of the body. I decide that she couldn’t. It’s an idea too far, from a writers perspective. 
I look out of the front room bay window. Across the road, neighbours argue in West Midlands accents. The view is not how I remember it. No dusty, nicotine stained net curtains cover the glass. Upstairs, in my parents bedroom, I butter toast on the bed, trying to remember siblings who died in a fire here. There’s the click and twist if a key in the door. A man called Adam, who lives with my mother. He dislikes me on sight, thinks I am my father. We argue. I encourage him to read, he’d rather kick a ball about outside. I hate sports, but join him anyway, to foster some goodwill. We kick a ball about in the street, running between wheelie bins. 
I’m cycling. I’m on a low tricycle. It’s B&W footage. I give the camera the finger as I comically pedal into the darkness of the canal towpath. There are other shots, but no context, no storyline. That will come later. It depends on who the editor is, and what other shots of their own they add. 
I see my story in a newspaper. It’s a feel good, heart warming, Christmas story of triumph over adversity. I’m not sure how I feel about my complex existence being simplified for mass consumption. 
I am interviewed. I wear a comical gold barrister’s wig. On top of that, I try various amusing hats. The interviewer and the audience love that. I flick through a magazine. Animated images play as I look at them, and answer questions I ask. A black square is a ninja in a dark room. I tell the people I’m with how this technology could be supplemented with raised Braille text, to let visually impaired people read magazines. We cycle off down the road. I’m enjoying the exercise. I tell the others that I’ll meet them back at the house. I want to go further. They follow me. They’re having fun too. 
I sit in a street. Across the road, fog, at the end of the road, rain. I ask Adam how this can be. 



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