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And the dreamcatchers long white feathers reminded me of finding that feather outside the tent, which was still in my pocket, and I reached in with my right hand and rubbed it between my fingers. And something about the feather and the crowds made Confucius the next thing to jump in, and I saw him two millenniums ago- in his robes drifting from scene to scene throughout countryside’s and towns- bowing to kings, bending in respectful piety outside temple doors, and chanting sacred songs and mantras to nature and to the ancestors. And I thought I understood him more, now that I had lived in nature a while, and knew that there was actually some kind of magic to life. I had just needed to try and get into his shoes to feel it.

I kept walking, passing the doors of the bookstore. But we’re all on our own paths through life. Every being is tied up in this thing we call mass consciousness. We are from and return to the thing we call God. Yes, yes, what does that have to do with anything? Fuck’s sake. Consciousness determines environment. Yes but- something just then made me look up at the store window- and there on display was Confucius! Hardback- £12.99. A jolt went through me. My fingers were still rubbing the feather in my pocket as I stared in astonishment at the Chinese man in robes on the cover. Shit! Just when I’ve been thinking of him! I thought, when suddenly another vision flashed like lightning; of a black ladder going up, to a ceiling, and a figure at the top of the ladder, trying to break through the ceiling with their fist. But they-he or she, I couldn’t tell -couldn’t get through. They were slamming at it and slamming at it, punching and punching, but the ceiling wouldn’t open up! The image gripped my every nerve. I was suddenly acutely aware of everything in and around me; of myself, the grey clouds drifting slowly above me which I was strangely a part of too, and the bodies going past me which I didn’t feel part of at all, and the rock hard pavement under my feet which seemed to be the only thing holding up my skin and bones. That ladder burned in my mind, demanding to be noticed. What’s above that ceiling? I wondered anxiously. What does it mean?

Then the image slowly faded, and I kept walking alongside the building, trying to figure it out. Was that about me? Is that my consciousness, evolving? A metaphor for my consciousness? Or the world consciousness? That we can all evolve and go up a level in our minds? But you’re just being crazy. You’re stupid and know nothing. Yes, I am, but why are those people looking at me like that? Especially that old couple? Do they think I’m crazy? Does it show in my eyes?! Haha, maybe I am. But look at that sky now. It feels like it might rain. Good, that’s what I need. I should go back now, in case they are out. I should go back. C’mon rain. Douse these people. Douse these streets. Wash us clean. I’ll turn back. Wait! Was that a raindrop? I just felt it? And another! It is bloody raining! Did I just predict that? But why do I feel so nervous today? Aw, fuck- look at that poor guy on those crutches. He looks in pain. Oh, it’s a shame. Life is so harsh. But you don’t know what he’s feeling! It could just be a sprain. No, it looks worse. I wish I could help him. Oh, that old lady’s sad eyes too! The desperation. Look at the way she’s clutching onto that handbag like it’s a fifty-kilo weight. Fuck! All the pain. So much fucking pain. Am I feeling her pain now? Why this energy? Is this all their energy? No, you’re just too sensitive. Ah, fuck it’s stupid. Physical pain especially, it’s so nonsensical. But there they are-

Alex and Harry were standing on the roadside, just beyond the pavement. Alex had a little box in his hand.

“Alright?” Harry grinned happily. His black eyes were warm and looking back at me with kindness. His familiar face, his friendship that I really valued, it had only been twenty minutes or so but I was overcome with happiness to see him again. For some reason I thought it could be the last time I would see him. I smiled back and threw my arms around his shoulders.

He chuckled and held the hug as the crowds moved by us, the spittering rain coming down over our heads. After a few seconds he stood back with a wide smile. “What’s that for?”

“Just for being my friend.” I told him earnestly.

He laughed and the three of us all turned towards the car park at the same time.

“I love you, man.” I said.

“Haha. I love you too.”

“Get a room.” Alex muttered at Harry’s side.

“We’re not together.” Harry said.

“You’re not?”

“No. We’re just pals.” I confirmed. “What, did you think?-”

“Oh! Well, yeah. I just assumed you were.” Alex stared at the road in what looked like thoughtful interest.

“What did you get?” I asked him.

He looked at me, then at the box swinging in his left hand. “Ah, just another sheet of tarp. The cooking pots were too expensive. Will get one in Tesco instead.”

We squeezed into his car. Alex turned on the engine and reversed out.

“Tesco then?” he asked.

“Tesco.” Harry said.

Chapter 67

T he music’s volume was down low. The CD playing but barely audible. Alex veered through the middle of the parked cars, and then his big arms spun the wheel like a boat captain, and we were out down the teaming mechanical river of the motorway.

I watched through the back windows as we sped by the retail parks

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