¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦
17:49 GMT, Sunday 25th Jan 2009. The last light just faded from the sky visible through the glass canopy above my head. "Boomerang" by Dune is booming out through the speakers on my desk. Solid stereo sound...loud enough to ruffle the week or so of stubble covering my face. Did I tell you Jo cut my hair? I was letting it just grow and grow and grow and said, "Can you give it a trim? Keep the length?" Ahhhhh- I've now learned not to give the girlfriend the power to shape your appearance... not to give her the scissors. A great cut, no doubt about it...but keep the length?!!?! Hah!
I did a bit of writing today. Some Yellow Dawn stuff. It felt good and if I hadn't made plans to go out I probably could have spent the whole day glued to my laptop. Sending out a shout to Alexander in Germany... your email gave me something of a prod, so, thanks! *smiles*
The nutter next door was shouting last night... slurring into incomprehensibility, and I was too dog tired to make any effort to decipher. A late night... I fell asleep sitting on the sofa downstairs... WTF?! My dad used to do that when I was a kid, and I could never understand it. Mind you... I'd had the cast-iron wood burner blazing for the whole afternoon and evening so the heat got pretty seductive. And I wasn't the only one. Jo's twin sister came over yesterday afternoon. By the end of the night both of them were asleep too. All three of us were sitting upright, sparked out asleep. That must have been some funny picture for anybody walking past the window.
Climbed upstairs and was asleep again before our heads hit the pillow.
Then a girl shouting. Outside the house. She sounded drunk. Followed by racous laughter. It's dark outside. I can hear a few people. Then silence.
Asleep again.
Only... another girl shouting, and the sound of somebody digging through a pile of bricks, or stones... or something. Jo's out the bed in a flash, straight to the window, wipping back the curtains... Jo starts banging on the glass with her fist and yells "THAT's MY FUCKING CAR".
I don't know what's going on but I'm already out the bed... out the room... legs like pistons taking me down the stairs... arms out either side for balance as I'm dropping two, three steps at a time. I hit the floor and sharp right turn... barrelling along the short passage, ripping open the front door. My lungs explode in a bellow of noise... I'm shouting "HEY!" and I'm outside in the street... figures scattering in two directions. And I'm stark bollock naked.
Ah!
My blood is up though. I duck back into the house. Grab my trainers. Upstairs and jump into my trousers. Back downstairs. I head out again. I can see three of them loitering just down the street. I start walking in their direction, at the same time my brain's thinking..."Right...and now what dumbass?" They see me coming and abruptly stop slouching and become alert. I keep moving in their direction. They start walking towards me. We pass. They give a cocky, "Alright?" I stare at them but say nothing and come to a stop. They keep walking. I turn after them and slowly follow...not quite sure how I'm going to handle things if they react. But I'm angry. They glance back once and turn a corner into a different street. There's about 10 of them, hanging around outside a house a few doors up. I don't go any further. I just watch. They all go inside.
Nothing much left to do.
I check the car. No damage.
I head inside. The rest of the night is quiet.
So today's been a good day. At one point I'm chilling out in the master bedroom. Curtains closed, soft lamps on. I've started the 4th Necroscope book; this one's called "Deadspeak". I am totally enjoying going through the series again. And this time I don't have to wait for a year between each one.
Lying on the bed with the book in my hands, I start to hear the nutter next door. But... it doesn't sound like he's inside. He's outside. He's doing his usual trick... repeating the same phrase over and over and over, each time ending in an angry shout. His phrases tend to differ from time to time. I go to the window, pull back the curtain. He's down near my front door, pointing at a house across the road... snarling, sneering, and saying something about "Blasphemy!".
Hmmm.
Not a healthy sign.
Ooo! I just heard him now. 18:18 GMT. He's yelling at the top of his voice... so loud I can actually hear him through these solid Victorian walls... and he's at least one floor down... I can almost hear him above my music. And...he's thumping something around inside his place. A repetitive dull thump... like his head on a wall? Freeeeeeaky!
A shame because he's been so silent for months. I wonder what's happened to trigger him off again?
Certainly things seem to escalating.
Watch this space.