Richard Butchins's Blog: Angels stand corrected... - Posts Tagged "nightmare"
The Fifth Extract...A dream...
Another brief extract from Pavement... in a day or two I'll tell you about the time I met Neil Gaiman.
I’m standing on a flat deserted seashore.There are large cube-like blocks of black stone that appear to have been frozen in mid-tumble to the water’s edge. They’re heaped up and strewn around like children’s building blocks.The ocean is metallic grey, oily and flat, like the surface of an ice rink. I might have thought it was solid but I know it’s not, small waves lapping at the rocks along the edge show me this.
I am aware of things under the surface of the water, things terrifying and deadly.The shoreline disappears into the distance in either direction, a straight line, as far as I can see. It vanishes into the murky sky, a sky that is dark grey and boiling with clouds that burst with silent sheet lightning. The horizon is a mixture of blood red and a sickly green light filtered through the angry clouds.
There is complete silence, as if all noise has been removed from the universe. I am standing on a narrow pathway set back from the shore and made, I notice, from Portland stone slabs.The surface is new and the slabs perfectly set. This path has never been walked, of that I am sure. It leads off in both directions. I am alone. I turn to look behind me, inland there is nothing to be seen, just a wall of blackness. A dark so tangible you can grasp it in your hand like clay.
I have to go somewhere, so I walk, and as I walk the scenery stays the same. I can see tiny movements in my peripheral vision. In the tangible dark something is moving. I walk for hours and as I walk, the dark recedes to reveal a landscape of huge stone slabs and shards, piled up high into the sky, they look as if they should collapse at any moment. Giant paving slabs piled up to the sky by an autistic ogre.These piles of rocks pay only lip service to gravity. The pavement under my feet is warm and comfortable, a fantastic walking experience. I look at my feet and they are glowing and perfect, no shoes, in fact, I am naked
Pavement
I’m standing on a flat deserted seashore.There are large cube-like blocks of black stone that appear to have been frozen in mid-tumble to the water’s edge. They’re heaped up and strewn around like children’s building blocks.The ocean is metallic grey, oily and flat, like the surface of an ice rink. I might have thought it was solid but I know it’s not, small waves lapping at the rocks along the edge show me this.
I am aware of things under the surface of the water, things terrifying and deadly.The shoreline disappears into the distance in either direction, a straight line, as far as I can see. It vanishes into the murky sky, a sky that is dark grey and boiling with clouds that burst with silent sheet lightning. The horizon is a mixture of blood red and a sickly green light filtered through the angry clouds.
There is complete silence, as if all noise has been removed from the universe. I am standing on a narrow pathway set back from the shore and made, I notice, from Portland stone slabs.The surface is new and the slabs perfectly set. This path has never been walked, of that I am sure. It leads off in both directions. I am alone. I turn to look behind me, inland there is nothing to be seen, just a wall of blackness. A dark so tangible you can grasp it in your hand like clay.
I have to go somewhere, so I walk, and as I walk the scenery stays the same. I can see tiny movements in my peripheral vision. In the tangible dark something is moving. I walk for hours and as I walk, the dark recedes to reveal a landscape of huge stone slabs and shards, piled up high into the sky, they look as if they should collapse at any moment. Giant paving slabs piled up to the sky by an autistic ogre.These piles of rocks pay only lip service to gravity. The pavement under my feet is warm and comfortable, a fantastic walking experience. I look at my feet and they are glowing and perfect, no shoes, in fact, I am naked
Pavement
Much better than American Psycho...
That' s a comment I received about my book Pavement.
He was right....guess you'll just have to read it and see.
Welcome to my nightmare - literally.
He was right....guess you'll just have to read it and see.
Welcome to my nightmare - literally.
Angels stand corrected...
I have to have a blog...the site told me, my publisher told me, my publicist told me, and even my turkish barber told me, as he was administering the finest of close shaves. So I thought I had better
...more
- Richard Butchins's profile
- 21 followers
