A younger David Gahan beckoned a younger inside me personally to keep going to the crest of the hill where he promised to help ease my worry by song and good company.
As I zombie-hunch shuffled, trying to not slide backward, and rallied to keep moving by resistant leg coordination, a starlet emerged next to me as the other striders streamed around us, onward toward their own destinations.
I in a ragged medical gown askewed by my struggles, and she in her top-dressed “nines” with makeup and hair perfect, turned right over the hill’s top and curved into his downward sloping vacation rental driveway.
Whereupon, she excitedly exclaimed it was amazing and that she had never been there before, and I sighed with relief saying “Ah, I like this house” (having recognized I’d been there before) – and wondered if David would let me first sleep some more.
Candid Corvid Productions 