¦ dialling in from sky bunker¦
A sunny Saturday morning.On my 1st mug of tea. "Falling" by Balligomingo is playing on laptop. A subtle heat is exuding through my guts. Jo and I met up with a close friend and his partner last night; a couple drinks, great conversation with lots of smiles, a lovely night; then down to a local curry house. Proper 2nd generation Indian; none of this modern Westernised decor, but low lighting, carpets on the walls, intense aroma of spices and pleasant music. My friend ordered something consisting of chillies, garlic and onion on rice. We both grinned at each other with glee at such wonderful food; turns out the thing was killer hot.
He ate his way through it but seemed to be suffering. I even commented he looked a little pale. Near the end he sat back, breathing sharply through his mouth stating he was getting a chilli rush. I believed him. My attention went Jo and the partner, the latter suddenly looked sharply to her left and began to lunge. My attention tracked back to my freind who was now toppling sideways out of the booth, about to fall from the chair onto the floor, only held in place by his partner's reactions. I was confused. Was he joking? His eyes were wide open, but his face was fixed in a vacant mask. His partner hauled him towards her, by his arm; his head swung round like a rag doll and cracked the wooden partition behind us. No reaction. Jesus the guy wasn't joking. In fact, as he slumped across his partner and she reached to find his pulse, he looked utterly dead. And that freaked me out. I had a troubled sleep last night. I kept seeing my freind's dead face, staring out, pupils so dilated his whites were almost hidden, a strange wet glistening forming around their rims catching the candlelight.... I instantly thought of my father and how mum and Squirt described the moment he died. I was up out of my chair, beside him, holding onto him, trying to get him onto the floor to get his head on the same level as his heart. Then he started shuddering, gently convulsing... I felt powerless to help.
Abruptly, within 20 seconds, he returned to consciousness. His eyes blinked, he sat up confused, and said he'd been having a lovely dream. He spent the next 15 minutes sitting with his forehead resting on his forearms on the table, he felt weak and nauseous. The waiters seemed to not find this a surprise, in fact, one actually said it was a result of the chillis. Really? Bloody hell.
Anyways, Jo grabbed the car, pulled up outside and we got him home. Safe and sound. I love the guy and I'm just pleased this was a blip of some kind. Seeing his dead face, well, that is an image I never want to see for real.
Djr