Destination Anywhere Page #4

- There's other buses or the train.

- No, l really can't.

Maybe later or something but

they're expecting me, so l've gotta go.

When are you gonna quit that sh*t job?

Look what it's doing to you.

l've gotta go.

Just sit and talk to me, will you, please?

l gotta go.

F***ing talk to me, will you?

Take the coat off and talk to me.

This is not going to bring her back. OK?

Whatever you're doing to me

is not going to bring her back.

You gotta talk to me.

- Come on.

- You weren't...

You weren't supposed to break the rules.

You promised me.

- You're breaking the rules. You're not...

- Stop it. Stop it.

Listen to me. Stop it.

l can't do this. l really need to go.

OK? l really need to go.

You need to let me go now.

- Listen...

- Let me go, now!

Let me go, now! Let me go!

l want my coat. l want my coat.

l want my coat. Just gimme my coat.

- Go.

- My coat on.

Put my coat on.

Put my coat on and...

l'm gonna go. That's what l'm gonna do.

l'm gonna put my coat and l'm gonna go.

Are you gonna be here

when l get back?

l gotta go. l gotta go.

That's it, l gotta go.

Winter now.

lts icy fingers reach beneath

the frame of one solid door,

beneath the blankets that shroud our

bed, into the ventricles of my heart.

All color is frozen out.

My face, grey, the streets, grey.

The voices that creep through

the phone lines are grey.

No sap runs through me.

No current of life.

Like Demeter, my daughter

has been stolen from me.

Exiled to hell and l condemn

the world to perpetual winter.

At night l hear her in my dreams.

She calls:

''Mummy''.

Her voice echoes through the dark and

l rise to go to her as l always have.

My feet grey on

the ice-slick floors of the house.

l run from room to room

but every one of them is empty.

The walls draped in frost.

l hear her calling beyond the windows

but the door is stuck.

l can't get out. l'm trapped here,

without her on the other side.

And there he is,

like a frigid god without compassion.

- Daddy, Daddy.

- Come on, Caitlin.

Come here, pumpkin.

''Let go'', he tells me.

You've got to accept.

But it's not his womb

that's turned to glacier.

She never lived inside his body

as she did in mine.

As she still does.

The heart will never beat

unless l breathe.

Baby cries until her mother holds her.

The mother holds her

until the winter thaws.

Jane.

Hey, Jane.

The dark birds in my head

flapping their wings...

...and every shadow in my brain...

...their cries raise the tiny hairs

along my spine...

...like debris shattering inside my skull

and set my teeth on edge...

...they're dive-bombing,

locked together in mortal combat...

...these are the birds that spatter

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