Two days in my bedroom, with tins of super strength lager, and Lucky Strike cigarettes from Rachel. A headache again, the alcohol surging to inspire. Warm sentiments of new friends, and visions of cold places are abundant.

Like Dachau.

And then I see her waiting in the rain, waiting outside my window, cold, lonely, smiling, those little bronze tins enticing the strangest hallucination of the non-life; enriching a profound desire to experience the other side.

cutting myself broad,
in a flash awakening,